Σοφία
by Archodus Vaxal
Summary: What does it take to be called "sentient"? The Xenomorphs can be very clever, but we still consider them to be mere animals. Is it their lack of remorse? Their bloodlust? Probably both… But, there's one Xeno who is very different than the others. Through one-in-a-million circumstances, and a human girl, we'll learn just what makes this Xenomorph Runner so different.
1. Prologue

**(****REWRITTEN VERSION)**

**"****Σοφία" (pronounced "Sofía") = Greek for "Sapience".**

**The main reason why I wanted to write this story was because the existing stories of this nature are always either crappy, or just shallow. You'll find that a lot of the great Aliens vs Predator stories seem to follow a very weird pattern. The human characters are way too trusting, the Xenos have little to no personality, and the Predators are always either bastards or big softies. I intend to fix all of that. And I'm going to do it while following all of the pre-established canon. And remember, I'm pretty much a living encyclopedia on the Xenomorph and Predator species. Luckily for you guys, I will be explaining these things, as well as answering questions about the story that you guys post. I took some inspiration for this story from "The Guardian" by IluthraDanar, so don't be surprised if there are some references or inside jokes here and there.**

**In this chapter, we shall see how this whole buggering situation started, as well as getting an inside look at the thinking process of a Xenomorph.**

* * *

**Prologue**

_22nd century, year 2182_.

Hidden deep within the records of the many Colonial Marine Corps "briefing" and "debriefing" reports, one will notice that many of these files are of conflicts that supposedly took place on the planet "Guardian-625", or "GD-625". This wouldn't have been considered odd, were it not for just two minor details. The first being, that Guardian-625 happens to be a planet sprawling with thousands of extremely large cities, the occasional lush, green forests, and - oh, yes - it also serves as a garrison for about half of the entire Colonial Marine army in all of explored space.

As such, there are about 150 militaristic facilities and veritable "fortresses" on Guardians' surface. One wouldn't think that terrorists, separatists, or pirates (a fairly common occurrence in these times) would go about their, less than reputable, business, let alone _attack_ anything on such a heavily fortified planet. _This_ is where things become even _more strange._ The alleged "hostiles" that were engaged by Colonial Marine forces were not any sort of "cabal", or unlawful source. In fact, the enemy was not _human_ at all!

According to the words of _many_ soldiers involved in these conflicts, and according to the many documents written on this; the hostile presence on Guardian was _actually_ a hive of the infamous creatures known as "Xenomorphs"! Yes, the same monstrous species that caused the incident on Acheron. This would certainly explain why the list of these conflicts is noticeably longer than that of any average wild animal attack. About 300 _times_ longer. It would also explain the especially high mortality rate that would come to be reported due to the imminent battles that would be fought.

Because of the chaos of the Xenomorph infestation on Guardian, and many other (soon to be discovered) ones, the Xenomorph species has been readily compared to a form of plant life on Earth called "weeds". "Constantly popping up where they aren't wanted, and never going away". Additionally, the entire thing was believed to _all_ begin with a report from a government-sanctioned Science Laboratory. It was a document detailing the discovery of a Xenomorph Egg in a launch bay used to receive and go through imports from other planets- "Cargo Bay 13", to be precise.

Apparently this "report" was never _actually_ reported to _anyone_ who could have done something about it, thus the Colonial Marine Corps was forced to rely on simple rumors, created by those who claimed to be involved in the find. It may have seemed extreme, but the CMCs' sudden pang of paranoia would turn out to be the correct call, in the end. And so, the "officials" had an evacuation and news warning be delivered to the public. To be broadcasted continuously until the issue could be resolved in some way.

Predictably, the massive colonies of GD-625 began to panic. After all, before now these Xenomorphs were pure myth, and speculation- at least, in regards to Guardian's population. All anyone had to go on were the legends and "campfire stories" that were, quite frankly inaccurate. No one really knew what to expect from this sudden threat. And thus, over 3/4 of the planets' population was ready to get the Hell out of dodge, and leave.

Almost immediately, the Colonial Marine leaders were making plans. The original course of action was to detonate and utterly destroy a very large portion of the particular city in question, Cargo Bay 13 included, using a tactical bomb. Apparently this was deemed the only appropriate response to the notion of a "rouge Xenomorph Egg". However, due to reasons that were, very _conveniently_, "stricken from the records", the CMC decided to postpone and/or put off their plans. We may not know the reason for this, but it is said here that the multi-billion dollar corporation, "Weyland-Yutani", had a hand in the development.

It is most likely due to the fact that Weyland-Yutani funds an extremely _large_ amount of the Colonial Marine Corps, and thus, practically _owns_ the USCMC. To no one's surprise. Not to mention the fact that Wey-Yu also probably owned a lot of the various buildings and businesses in this particular area of Guardian. So, the CMC most likely didn't have much of a say in the matter. They could, however, file a petition to have Weyland-Yutani's concerns be nullified in the face of the situation. Which is what they did.

Unfortunately, by the time the Marines' leaders could recommence their plans, it was speculated that the Facehugger inside the rouge Xeno Egg had, probably, already found a Host by then. Then, before anyone could do anything about _that_, a Chestburster was running amuck. Thus, making the location of their target unknown. And then a full-grown Drone was reportedly kidnapping the few people that were still _on_ Guardian… and then_ it_ molted into a Queen…

… so, basically, everyone was screwed.

It was _several days_ before the USCM could decisively confirm that there was, indeed, a "Queen Xenomorph" on Guardian (the location of which unknowable). Apparently, the way they could tell was that squads of Marines had begun to report encountering and engaging large groups of "bugs". Proving that the Xenomorph Hive, and thus, the Infestation, was well underway.

In less than a week, through repeated deluges of black swarms, ebony death, and bursts of acidic sprays - amongst deafening screeches, and demonic hissing - the infestation spread to massive proportions; overwhelming opposition, and resulting in over 55 square kilometers of buildings, complexes, parks, schools, hospitals, civilian domiciles, and Colonial Marine facilities, being turned into the Xenomorph Hive's territory, and no one else's. Two and a half cities, "New Scena", "Dimidirupt", and "Tenvis", transformed into an inescapable domain of imminent danger, and toxicity. The kind of horror and despair that can neither be ignored, nor withstood by _anyone_, was rampant and very active within the Xenomorph's dominion.

At this point, the possibility of the Colonial Marine Corps utilizing nuclear weaponry and explosives to quell the infestation, was both a viable option, and a distinct likelihood. However, in what is one of the most debated, and controversial decisions to this day, plans were, _inexplicably_ changed once again! By_ Weyland-Yutani_, no less! Except _now_ there was a legitimately explained _reason_.

Within the Xenomorph Hive Territory (XHT), there existed an excessively large stockpile of Colonial Marine weapons, armor, ammunition, explosives, munitions, and vehicle parts. This stockpile held a rather sizable amount of the Colonial Marines' arsenal and resources within the solar system. According to CMC leaders, this would not have mattered, or even played a factor, were it not for the technicality of 1/3 of this stockpile being made up of Weyland-Yutani produced munitions. Thus, making it Wey-Yus' property, and in turn, a decision that Weyland-Yutani had every right to play a part in.

And so, it was with a heavy amount of reluctance that the Colonial Marine officials signed a legal agreement with Weyland-Yuani called: "The Joint-Quarantine Protocol". This "treaty" stated that both Colonial Marine forces, as well as Weyland-Yutani funded mercenaries, would endeavor to set up a quarantine blockade circling the Xenomorph Hive. The amount of assets and resources poured into this effort is utterly _staggering_. All manner of military vehicles - anything from quad bikes to APCs', to Dropships were given patrol paths circumnavigating the Hive; every kind of heavy infantry soldier you could_ think_ of - Smartgunners, Wey-Yus' specialized Flamethrowers, weaponized power loaders, chain gun wielding Mech-Suits, SADAR Troopers - even Sentry Guns on _wheels_, for Christ's sake! - were posted to stand guard in regular patterns along the front lines. Every _single_ available weapon barrel was being pointed _straight_ at the Hive.

All of this, mind you, was set up after clearing away hundreds of buildings, public property, foliage, and streets for space- digging trenches, and pitching electric fences; not to mention building hundreds of camps for the foot soldiers to stay in along the outside of the blockade. And _all _of it was being accomplished while swarms of Xenomorph Warriors were hammering away at the Colonial Marines' and Weyland-Yutanis' "front door", so to speak.

The Joint-Quarantine Protocol, from then on, would remain in effect until the two organizations could retrieve the valuable property from within the Hive, without destroying it in the process. A nearly impossible task, mind you, considering the Xenomorph swarm was estimated to be over 70,000 strong in numbers; but if getting _this_ over with meant that the CMC could go right ahead and nuke the Hive afterwards, then they were all for it.

Though, you can be certain that "we want our guns back" was definitely not going to be what was told to the public, as to why the quarantine had been set up. And they _certainly_ weren't going to allow any information about The Joint-Quarantine Protocol be released to the public, either. One can only _imagine_ the sheer _extent_ of the Guardian citizenship's indignation! Although, they'd have had every _right_ to be pissed off.

No, "there could be survivors of the infestation" and "we are doing our best to get loved ones out of there alive" were _perfectly_ good explanations. And it _was_ at least _half_ the truth.

After the blockade was constructed, and the Colonial Marine Corps was confident in the strength of the quarantine's barrier, officials gave the "all clear" and said that the threat was under control. Naturally, due to some skepticism, multiple news channels were contracted to begin showing footage of how secure the quarantine was, and Guardians-625s' population began slowly returning to the planet.

A month later, most of Guardian could sleep easy, knowing that their loyal soldiers were holding the line. As expected, recruitment rates shot upwards as the Colonial Marine Corps advertised the fact that they would need more people to sign up. Now more than ever. After all, good Marines were dying everyday as they protected Guardians' people, and the Corps was in need of more brave souls for the job.

What no one bothered to mention, or think about, was the fact that, by locking the Xenomorphs inside their own Hive, and telling soldier after soldier to get out there and stop the "plague" from spreading… they were, ostensively, only providing the Hive with more food, more Hosts, and more time. Not only were the Colonial Marine/Wey-Yu alliance ordering their soldiers to stand against an enraged swarm of Xenos daily, but they were also staging missions to send entire platoons directly into the heart of the Hive itself. While they were doing this for multiple amenable reasons, including the rescue of survivors… it wasn't nessecarliy _helping_.

To face _one_ Ebony Demon in combat is already a daunting task, but to fight an endless horde of them while inside _their_ Hive, in _their_ element of darkness, and on _their_ terms is, well...

Just plain suicide.

The _only_ thing the allied organizations were accomplishing was, at _best_, _limiting_ the growth of the Hive… and, at _worst_, they were _nurturing_ it. Xenomorph Warriors may not have been spreading across the face of Guardian-625 like a pestilence, right now, but the presence of a Hive was _no_ less of a threat to life on Guardian, than it was while the quarantine hadn't been initiated.

In the many, many conflicts against the Aliens like these, there are a few, painful truths, that we, as humans, must understand.

The species, "Xenomorph XX121", is an unstoppable force of nature. Plain. And. Simple. Not just because of their physical and numerical strengths, but also the sheer _purity_ of their motives. And how the Xenos' will tirelessly cut down anything that stands in their way.

A Xenomorph doesn't _care _about what humans are capable of, _or_ how smart we are- it doesn't _care_ how many people it or its' brethren kill- it doesn't _care_ about _who_ you are,_ what_ you've done_, _or what you _hope_ to do- it doesn't _care_ if its' very existence is the organic equivalent of a plague- it doesn't _care_ if its' enemies are protecting _other_ living things- it doesn't give a single, solitary _shit_ how outnumbered or outgunned it supposedly is! The _only_ thing a Xenomorph is _ever_ concerned about, is that their Queen is safe; that the Hive grows; and that the prey **_dies_**! And a Xenomorph will willingly give it's life to accomplish those goals.

It is this sheer _lack_ of concern, curiosity, or compassion for _anything_ else beyond it's own kind; the utterly goal-oriented mindset; and their undiluted primal rage, that has revealed one frightening fact.

No matter how many of them you put down, no matter how many people you save from them, no matter whether or not you live to see another day, and not matter how disadvantaged of a situation the Xenos may be in...

…The Aliens. _Always_. Win.

* * *

_Day One of Infestation - Threat Magnitude: Alarming_.

Mr. Aidan Orinko, a short, black-haired man, was strolling down one of the numerous hallways of New Scena City's Industrial District. The dim, yellow lighting, red painted vents, as well as the completely dark brown/bronze metal walls, floor, and ceiling made it abundantly clear that this place was a center for commerce, and production. The Industrial District in the city of New Scena was the hub for, essentially, any kind of manual labor, or general advancement. Technology, construction, industrial planning, that sort of thing. Making this the everyday workplace for around 50,000 men and women - half of that, from the neighboring cities of Dimidirupt, and Tenvis. Except, today was Sunday, and thus, most, if not all, of the businesses and corporations in the Industrial District, were closed. Allowing their workers a day off.

Aidan wasn't supposed to be here. Well, actually, there technically was no _law_ about it, but traversing through the Industrial District on a Sunday was only freely permitted to a handful of people. Theft was a very large concern at the time.

He walked with a swift, yet calm pace, with a rather large duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He wore a brown jacket, blue t-shirt, and jeans. Despite his rather average looking face, and attire, there was _still_ an aura, or _way_ about Aidan that would cause you to be guarded around him. Objectively, there wasn't very much to be intimated by when it came to Aidan, nothing that would immediately say "danger". Yet, people who saw him could always detect a certain… "_thing_"-a history behind the way Aidan's eyes would always meticulously scan everything in the room before he did anything. You'd constantly have the feeling that, when it came to Mr. Orinko, it would be wise to be wary of him. And to place your trust in someone else, if the time came.

At the moment, as far as anyone cared to know, Aidan was on his way to the New Scena space-port to catch an inter-stellar flight to some, obscure, tropical planet for a vacation. Indeed, Aidan _was_ intending to go abroad, yet, he didn't have to go anywhere _near_ the Industrial District to get there. Well, you _could_, but not on a Sunday. In truth, Aidan wasn't concerned about not having a "hall pass" to this oil stained, flame blackened district, not while he was in a hurry; and besides, he would have a _lot_ more to lose if he _didn't_ trespass through here. The Industrial District was his shortcut, and he was going to take it.

As he walked past the entrance to a restaurant, embedded into the metal wall on his right - chairs stacked on tables with the lights off - one of the many nearby microphones on the ceiling (used for daily/weekly announcements to the public) clicked on, and made a high pitched, slightly deafening "keen". Indicating that the government of the province of Leprosum, consisting of the cities New Scena, Dimidirupt, Tenvis, Negal, and Aspernal, was about to make a Province-wide address.

Aidans' brow creased in confusion, as he stopped walking to look up at the ceiling mounted device which was used to deliver communique. The "Morning" _and_ "Noon Addresses" had _already_ been _made_, there wasn't supposed to_ be_ anymore today. Extra or unexpected announcements almost _always_ meant trouble or some sort of an inconvenience. His hand fiddled with the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder. He _sincerely_ hoped that none of the scheduled space-port flights would be delayed or canceled, for some reason. He'd be in the shitter, if _his_ flight was.

He listened closely, as did everyone _else_ in Leprosum at that moment.

When the announcement began, the first thing Aidan noticed was that it wasn't the same person that was always heard on the "PSA-Phone"- the british accented William Segal - but, instead it was a monotone voiced "nobody". It was most certainly a middle-aged man with an extremely odd sounding, almost computerized voice that resembled those from "crisis warnings" in the 20-21st century.

You could practically _feel_ everyone in Leprosum hold their breath. Something was _extremely_ wrong. William had been Leprosums' announcer for the better part of 20 years- somewhat of an icon, at this point. The only time anyone had ever replaced him was if an outbreak of a major disease had occurred. The kinds of diseases that are ancient - from more than a century ago - temperamental, and especially virulent. Well… either _that_ or some sparsely known generator in some obscurely located place was malfunctioning, and everyone had to vacate the immediate area before the thing exploded… which it never _did_.

As the disturbingly bland sounding voice drawled on… well… needless to say, the news came as a bit of a shock. Aidans' face contorted into one of utter bewilderment- he could have _sworn_ that this announcer had just said that there was a Xenomorph Egg in New Scena...

...

…a _Xenomorph_ Egg. Next thing Aidan knew within his mental stall of shock, the mystery-person continued on, recommending that everyone in Leprosum leave their homes and either utilize an emergency USCM "lifeboat" to get off planet, or to migrate to an out-of-province city.

Almost too soon, the announcement ended, and Aidan blinked, his expression troubled. He let out a breath through his nose, and gazed down at the metal, dark bronze colored floor. Like all _other_ people on Guardian, Mr. Orinko had always believed that the concept of "Xenomorphs" was either the result of an exaggerated encounter with some other obscure alien creature; or that it was simply the rampant imagination of some feverishly insane pillock(s) that needed therapy. You _would_ need therapy after coming up with something as reportedly nightmarish and disturbing as "_Xenomorphs_".

Guardian's populace was, and never had been, particularly privy to such, reportedly widespread, rumors of demonic monsters. But… now that an official source had, rather blatantly, made it known that "yes, Xenomorphs are real, and they're here"… Aidan was… stunned, really.

So… if Xenomorphs are real, and they're in New Scena… then that meant that people would be panicking. And if they're panicking, then a lot of people would be trying to leave. Aidan visibly stiffened. That meant that almost everyone in New Scena would be buying tickets to all off-world transportation. The space-ports will be packed full of desperate people, and Aidan would most definitely miss his flight to Charge-3. Aidan began walking again, at a _much_ quicker pace, almost jogging. He could _not_ afford to be late. Not now.

You see, the people of Leprosum don't typically know Aidan by his true name. Most, including the local USCM authorities, recognize him as "Mathew Doberman". A pharmacist with a degree in chemistry. If Aidan had the choice, he'd have gone by his _own_ name and his _own_ profession. But, unfortunately for him, the decision was never his to make. In fact, he didn't have a say in a _lot_ of things, as of late, not even where he could _live_ or _work_. For over a year, now, very big aspects of Aidans' life were being dictated by a narcotic-mongering crime lord, named "Felix". Felix, and his lackeys', had been dead-set on corrupting Guardian with the disease of debauchery and drug-use for 5 years, now. They had never been very successful, and when Aidan accidentally discovered Felixs' gang, they couldn't miss out on the opportunity to take advantage of him, and use him as a puppet.

For 428 days, Aidan Orinko had been discreetly serving as a drug distributor, manufacturer, and, well, a general "tool" to Felix. If he refused to go through with the various "jobs" assigned to him, or made a mistake, his remaining family in Tenvis would pay the price. Even now, his "vacation" was actually a "business venture" to one of Guardians' 4 moons, Charge-3, to deliver the cocaine he had in the duffel bag… which he was currently carrying to an "associate". Aidan had never asked why Felix would want drugs taken to a moon, but then again, he didn't really care to know, nor find out.

He just wanted to get to Charge quickly, get this over with, then go back home to live in peace for the next week, or so. He needed to get to the space-ports. Fast. And that meant he would have to take an even quicker shortcut through one of the many government-sanctioned Science Labs of the Industrial District in order to expedite his… departure.

* * *

Aidan approached the glass paneled door to the Laboratory. The door stuck out like a sore thumb at the end of the copper/brown hallway- being light gray, sterile-looking, and partly see-through; with a small, blue plaque on the wall beside it that read: "Science Laboratory B-4", in white letters. Aidan had only been to _one_ of the 121 science labs of the Industrial District- twice. The first to forge a few names and addresses into the ledger that one of the head scientists kept - one of Felix's odd jobs - and the second to find a schematic of the general area, as well as to identify the vent that lead into a certain storage closet… so he could easily procure the "ingredients" he needed to manufacture more cocaine. Both of these occasions had been on illegal terms, and in a completely different laboratory than the one that Aidan needed to cut through, now. Aidan had never been in _this_ one, but according to the same schematic he had stolen from 8 months before, this one had two entrances, was the largest lab in the Industrial District, and was the quickest path to the space-ports.

As Aidan reached for the handle on the door, it vaguely occurred to him that the entire lab was pitch black, and there appeared to be no one inside. This would be considered _extremely_ abnormal. These science labs were sanctioned by Guardians' government, and thus received orders directly from head-secretaries and sometimes governors. The scientists and professors that worked in these "research facilities" (a fancy term for "college supplied, minimum wage, labor houses") took shifts that spanned across a 24/7 time-frame. This place is supposed to be at work and active at all times. Now, it was as lifeless as the south side of New New Jersey, on WF-832.

However, in his rush, Aidan didn't take this into account and strolled right in. He also didn't take into account the fact that he couldn't see a bloody thing, and (not even joking, here) ended up walking straight into the nearest, crotch-high, corner of a desk. Aidan grunted, and bit his tongue to stop from yelling as he stumbled backwards, and dropped to his knees. He idly dropped his duffel bag off to the side and spent the next 2 minutes breathing heavily through his gritted teeth. He did not want to alert anyone to his presence with cries of pain. Despite the fact that the entire place seemed deserted. He didn't want to take risks, though. Going to prison for trespassing was not a very appetizing option, at the moment. Thus, these were the hardest 120 seconds of his life- trying to keep his mouth shut when all he wanted to do was scream.

It would have been lower on his over-all list of hardships, were it not for his impending doom- less than 3 more minutes from now.

As the crippling pain finally died down, Aidan got back up to his feet, and bent over to pick up his duffel bag. He was about to sling it over his shoulder, when it occurred to him that he _still _couldn't see anything. He dropped to one knee, lowered the bag to the floor, and began rummaging through it. He was fairly certain he had packed a flashlight in there, somewhere.

As Aidan was still struggling to find the flashlight - buried under about 30 bags of narcotics - he was completely unaware of what was skittering about in the dark corners of the room. Beneath tables and chairs- creeping around the legs of the furniture. Hiding. Waiting. Watching. A creature - small - beige-ish, off-white skin, eight, finger-like legs, and a segmented tail that flicked this way and that; as the tiny monster continued to observe it's oblivious prey. It's soft, silicone, skin pulsed and shifted around it's brittle bones.

Yet, despite it's un-impressive appearance, this unassuming organism still presented a credible threat. Not just to the lone, unaware, human it was stalking, but also, to every other living being on Guardian. This monster - "spawn of Satan" - "evil incarnate" - was the potential beginning of something terrible. Something horrific. This creature - barely any larger than a food platter - represented a future of utter chaos, bedlam, and unprecedented amounts of death and carnage. This parasite was the organic equivalent of a volcano - bursting and crackling with lava, and ash - just _waiting_ to **explode**. To erupt in a flood of destruction and death. And all it would take... was for _one_ person - for _one_ living thing - to be in the wrong place... at the wrong time.

And Aidan had made the mistake of _being_ that someone...

Aidans attention was suddenly drawn to his left by the sound of a chair scraping noisily across the tile floor. It was sudden- quick. As he had just found it, and turned it on, his first impulse was to immediately wave the flashlight in the direction of the sound. The light cast long, erie shadows across the floor, straight to the other side of the room, and created an ominous "collide-scope effect" with the in-and-out flashings of table and chair-legs. Another noise - a hollow click - to his right this time, met his ears. As Mr. Orinko continued frantically scanning left and right with his torch, his mind had been at work. These were the kinds of situations that people talk about when they mention "hairs standing on end". This is what true suspense felt like.

His breath was shallow, and loud as each inhale and exhale forced itself through his flared nostrils. It felt like his skin was literally crawling. Chills and shivers ran up and down his spine. His hands and feet suddenly felt ice cold. His knees - one of which he was kneeling on - were shaking, as he felt every urge to run. He was quickly beginning to sweat. His scalp and the back of his neck tingled. All the while, the primal, unreasonable parts of his mind had taken over, and were rapidly thinking of all the possibilities. Mentally grasping at an uncountable amount of straws- trying to make sense of what **it didn't know**. Constantly forcing Aidan to imagine everything from a drunk scientist, to a horrific abomination creeping out of the shadows. His thoughts and impulses felt like they were screaming at him. For the first time in his life Aidan was _truly_ afraid.

He may not have known what had made the noise, and he knew it could have easily been something negligible. But that's the thing. He _didn't_ know. The fact that he had _no_ idea what lay beyond… utterly _terrified_ him. The fact that _anything_ could jump out and say "here I am!" was what was kicking his brain into overdrive. And as every second past, the fear only got worse and worse. Something _had _to have made that sound! It _couldn't_ be "nothing"! _Something_ was there! That was the only thing that could have made a chair move, or - what sounded like - something tapping against metal! He knew for a _fact_ that there was _something_ in the room with him! But he _didn't know WHERE _it was, or _WHO_ it was, or _WHAT _it was! What could _possibly_ be there!? - In the dark!? - _Watching_!?

A noise pierced the deafening silence. A stack of papers falling to the floor.

A pathetic half whimper/half groan of terror escaped Aidans' throat. His thoughts screamed at him-

WHERE _WAS_ IT!? _WHO_ IS IT!? _WHAT_ IS IT!? WHAT'S IN THIS ROOM WITH HIM!? HE'S _NOT_ ALONE IN HERE! _THERE'S SOMETHING THERE!_

Anxiety. Suspense. Fear. Tension.

You know, it is widely believed, that there are _three_ kinds of fear. There's Horror; the fear associated with _watching_ something frightening take place; something painfully slow; when someone you know is killed or hurt, and your care for them - whatever the degree - forces you to empathize with that person, and your mind makes you imagine yourself in that position. Horror also encompasses the concepts of disgust, morbidness, and repulsion.

There's Terror; the fear that happens when _you're_ the victim, when you're literally a "deer caught in the headlights"; the kind of fear that forces your limbs to lock up, and your breath to hitch- when everything seems to slow down, and you feel like you can only watch as the danger to your life gets closer to you.

And then… there's Ambiguity. Ambiguity goes hand in hand with "creepiness" and illusion; when something seems to defy physics itself. It is the fear of the unknown; when a person wearing a mask stands outside your house; when something clacks against the window, and you force yourself to listen carefully for hours on end, waiting for something to happen. Being "creeped out" has always been an instinctive reaction. Take a look at the nearest "creepy looking" picture, and stare at it for a bit. Do you feel on edge? Uncomfortable? As if whatever's in the picture will barge into your home? Do you feel like you have no idea what the "thing" will do?

Exactly. It's that unpredictability- when your mind can't quite discern what kind of a threat something will pose, if any. When you and your brain are just plain **unsure** about what the "thing" is going to do. When something looks odd enough, and when its' appearance blurs the lines of dichotomy that you associate with everything- when it can be placed in the "Uncanny Valley"- when it looks _sort_ of human… but not _quite_. Clowns, toy dolls, zombies, mummies, a dead corpse… Xenomorphs… these are things that people are creeped out by. Not because these things present a clear danger (well, a Xenomorph probably will)- but because you don't _know_ if it's dangerous, because you're unsure. Ambiguity is the unknown, the weird, the odd, the suspenseful and the skin crawling, hair raising uncertainties.

Fear has been an evolutionary benefit for mankind. Being afraid of things that are poisonous, things that are dangerous… and things that are "creepy" looking, has kept humans from putting themselves in danger. It's kept us from venturing out into the unknown. But, just because fear is _meant_ to keep us away - to ward us off - doesn't mean we shouldn't try to overcome it. Being brave isn't about "not feeling fear"- it's about being able to _push past_ that fear, and do what needs to be done.

Aidans' case of "Ambiguity"… was _not_ so easily shaken…

After 2 minutes of utter, deafening silence, the sound of something scrambling across a table, and glass shattering against the floor, were the last things that Aidans' mind processed. Just as his flashlight locked onto where the ruckus had originated, the final image his eyes saw, was of the underside of a Face-Hugger leaping towards him.

The creature had been slightly off it's mark. Instead of Aidans' face, the blur of beige struck him in the neck and upper torso. Aidan was shoved backward from the force of the creature's pounce, and fell onto his back with a yelp. His flashlight went sailing out of his hand, and hit the wall behind him; breaking. Before Aidan could even think about what was happening, the Face-Hugger jumped onto his head, like a mask, blinding and silencing him. It was not long before he fell into suffocation-induced unconsciousness. All was left eerily silent, apart from the small chirps and tiny growls from the Xenomorph parasite… as it set to work on it's life's purpose.

* * *

_Day Four of Infestation - Threat Magnitude: Imminent. Immediate Action Required._

The Worker was alone. Alone. No Queen to speak of. No Hive-mates either. No one. She was alone. A condition that _no_ newly born should experience. Her immediate thoughts upon emerging from her Host were to ask the Queen for guidance. When she couldn't sense one, she probed for the presence of any Hive-mates. To ask where the Queen was, if any. Her mind stalled as she realized there was no Hive-mind link. No line of communication at all. No… Hive… She was suddenly caught in a state of pure disbelief N_o Queen? No family? No Hive? N-no, that is not… how… how is there no Hive?_. Went it became apparent to her that she was completely on her own, she began to panic. She _couldn't_ be _completely _alone - that's just… no, this couldn't be happening. She was just a Worker - born for the maintenance and efficiency of the Hive - she was no Soldier or Ranger- there's a _reason_ that her strain was rarely sent into battle. Without others to support her she was _very_ likely to be killed! She… she was going to _die_ in this place. This train of thought did not last long, and was put a stop to almost immediately, by a specific set of impulses, and desires, along with an uncontrollable urge to oblige them. Find Hosts. Capture Hosts. Create Hive. Molt_._ Create Hive. Molt. Capture Hosts. Hive. Spread. Build. Molt. Hive. Hive… hive, hive, hive… She would build a new Hive- she would have to molt into a Queen… she _will_ molt into a Queen. This Worker would gather Hosts, in secrecy, for eggs. Something about this oddly shaped metal "hive" she had been born in told her that there would be _many_ Hosts to be found, nearby. She, having no other ideas on what to do, willingly entered a trance-like state in order to help her get started.

After a full day, and after the fifteenth Host had been found, subdued, and restrained, she'd gotten the hang of the pattern. Workers typically needed some sort of regime to follow. Guidelines. A pattern of living. Which was why Workers like herself depended on the Queen so heavily. At this point, a very noticeable decrease in the Hosts' numbers had been apparent to her. It was as if all of the Hosts inexplicably new of her presence. Which was impossible.

By the time the fourth day had come around, she had estimated that she would need one more Host in order to get the Hive started. And the _Ancestral_ half of her psyche seemed to have no argument. _Yes, this one will do_, she now thought. She was currently hiding in a small tunnel, concealed in the ceiling above the head of a human. The _last_ human she would have to capture. Her prey was simply standing in the middle of the chamber, in front of a strange object that produced a similar glow to the one found in the human's heart. It's arms were moving this way and that in an odd, continuous sequence. The Worker had no idea what the human could have been doing, but then again, she really didn't care. All that mattered, was that this human needed to be captured and subdued. And that she was painfully close to completing her task… and one step closer to creating her Hive. She had been waiting for a human to come by this chamber. It had become obvious that, sooner or later, a human _always_ crosses paths with these kinds of chambers her current prey was in. Seeing as though her wait for prey had come to an end, and she wouldn't find a better opportunity to strike, she carefully undid herself from the ball she had curled into. She could feel the instinctual, primal side of her mind suddenly spring and buck- demanding she charge the human and tear apart all obstacles. The idea of the prey being captured excited it. Obviously, that would not work well, seeing as though humans had a tendency to run when they encounter danger, and it always made it _so_ much more tedious to chase it down. The first five times this happened had been proof of it enough. The Worker knew that stealth would always be the most efficient and quick course of action- efficiency being paramount, especially with the possibility of a future Hive at stake. And stealth, she knew, was something her kind was brilliant at. She quickly and silently shifted her weight to lower her hands to the flooring of her hiding spot to be ready to move. Her lip had curled upwards in her kinds equivalent of a cringe when the entire metal tunnel creaked and groaned loudly, yet briefly, from the change of position.

It seems that the structure of this tunnel had… "gotten used" to her being there and had been… "surprised" when she suddenly moved. As she had always focussed her vision on her human prey, she immediately noticed that the Host was alerted by the sound. It had heard something. It wasn't moving in it's odd fashion and instead was solely focused on the ceiling that concealed her. The glow of it's heart intensified in it's flashing. The sound of it's heartbeat became slightly audible through the thick structure of the human's dwelling. Despite that the _Ancestral_ instincts, granted to her at birth - a source of all-knowing guidance - were thrashing about within her mental walls and demanding she take action (_what_ exact action is unclear), she knew it would have to wait. Again, stealth was her best option to get as close as possible and take the human by surprise. The Worker held perfectly still, waiting for what felt like a half hour. Finally, the Host seemed calmed down and started moving its arms in its' usual robotic motions. She huffed through her dorsal tubes in relief and satisfaction that she and not been "caught".

The Worker then quickly (but more carefully) made her way to her right and downwards to the entrance of the tunnels that served as her entry point into the human's dwelling. As always an odd metal grating blocked it off. She saw no way to remove the blockage quietly and head butted the obstacle out onto the floor of her prey's Hive, causing the odd square of alloy to clang loudly. Unfortunate, that her idea of surprise would be undermined by a simple object, but, no matter. Her newfound entrance had lead her to a small separate chamber than the one the human was in. The Worker unknowingly emitted a low growl of anticipation as the Host yelped from the noise of the metal grating hitting the ground- the sweet smell of alarm, uncertainty, and dread flowed into her dorsal tubes. Egging her on. Just _daring_ her to come charging toward the human, screeching a war cry. She took a moment to calm down a bit, as a familiar gradual burn began to surface at the back of her head. A sudden attack may surprise the human just as well as stealth could, but the Host was already on alert and could possibly be triggered to sprint at the sight of the Worker. She needed clear thoughts… for the moment. The burn remained, however, as it always did when the target was close.

The Worker took the moment to crawl out of the child-sized tunnel, beginning to silently creep towards the open doorway off to her left. Where the path to her quarry lay. A hiss escaped her throat as a scent of anger suddenly drifted to her, from her prey. It must have been under the impression that it stood a chance. Even if the human couldn't possibly know that it was the _Worker_ stalking it. _Arrogant little morsel!_, she thought. The burning in the back of her skull increased into a scorch at the concept of the prey fighting back. The _Ancestral_ part of her was now chomping at the bit to capture the human. She ignored it, for the moment, and continued crawling silently to doorway separating her from the Host. Her arms and legs splayed out to both sides to distribute her weight evenly and to avoid the floor creaking. Though the urge to charge the prey became steadily stronger, she resisted it. She would give in when she was sure the human wouldn't get the chance to run and escape. Despite her intentions a guttural growl forced itself out of her maw as she began to drool. The pungent stench of fear yet again met her dorsal tubes. The prey had heard her. She was but an arms-length away from reaching the doorway. The glow of its' heart became brighter than the sun, as it flashed every time the muscle pumped blood - faster than before - and the rest of the prey's body locked up in terror. _This_ is what sent the Worker over the edge, and what threw her self-control out of a hypothetical window.

_FEAR!_

Her instinct took over, urging her to go forward and perpetuate the species. And she was all too happy to oblige.

_HOST: AFRAID! PREY: AFRAID! HOST MUST BE CAPTURED! HOST MUST BE HIVED! GO! CHARGE! ENGAGE! _These thoughts, which weren't entirely her own, repeated again and again, faster and faster. Making the burn in her head turn to fiery magma, and her skull to ring in painful fury. Practically _screaming_ for the young Worker to do what she was born for. Adrenaline flowed freely in rivers inside of her veins. She jumped up, leaped to her right, and ran through the doorway she had been approaching, entering the chamber her prey was in. Talons raised, tail lashing behind her. Her black lips folded backward as her jaws opened fully- her inner jaw extending slowly, snapping. Drool pouring from her maw like a fountain- the thrill of the hunt being so strong. A shrill shriek that dripped with power, dominance, and bloodlust erupted from within. Her legs and back tensed as she leaned backward, shoulders hunching. It had begun, and she was air born in an instant, leaping at the terrified Host-

But, then… everything seemed to stop as the Host's eyes rolled back into it's head, and it collapsed to the ground. Leaving the Worker to fly straight over her prey, resulting her smashing head-first into a wall. The wooden supports of the wall splintered and cracked as the Worker yanked her elongated skull from the plaster. Her adrenaline surge quickly died down, drool stopped flowing, and the _Ancestral_ became pacified as she shook her head, sending flakes of plaster and wood here and there. Well, _that _was odd. The previous Hosts at least put up _some _sort of fight, or fled. Instead this one… fell asleep? She dismissed the thought immediately; she didn't need to know why it happened. After all, her kind weren't ones to skip on an opportunity.

* * *

As the Worker finished strapping the most recent Host to the wall of her future Hive, she stepped back to observe the soon-to-be Egg Chamber. About 42 Hosts were all either sleeping or screaming for help that wouldn't come. All of them restrained in Hive Resin. The Worker didn't think she would need much more to get her Hive started. _Her_ Hive… it felt weird to think about. Soon she would be 20 ft tall, and commanding the Soldiers of her Nest. Laying eggs and conducting the various processes of the Hive. Again, it felt weird, yet… exciting and… it left a warm sensation in her mind at the thought of her Hive growing, spreading, and prospering. She growled slightly at the thought that she would have to crouch over her ovipositor when she molted into a Queen. It would most certainly be uncomfortable. But she couldn't do anything about _that _until a few Workers were born. She suddenly felt tired. Something that her kind rarely became. It must have meant that her body was beginning the molting process. And so she half-mindedly walked to a corner of her future Hive. The ceiling was just about high enough for a Queen to stand up straight. Little did she know, this was where her Egg had been found by human laborers and scientists. "Cargo Bay 13". She sat down on the metal plated corner, curling in on herself, arms and tail around her knees and shins. Her breathing steadied as she drifted willingly off to sleep.

Never _once_ did she ask herself, "do I want a Hive?". No, _that_ decision was made for her. The moment she realized that she was the only one of her kind on this planet. No alternative. No other conceivable option. No other way. No other choice.

* * *

For the next 10 days, the USCM began frantically fumbling about to search for a Face Hugger or adult Xenomorph they would never find. By the seventh day, Xenomorph Warriors were already up and about, and wreaking havoc. Within the week, the Infestation had exploded and spread at an alarming rate, taking over three cities. At this point the quarantine was being constructed and brought up into fully operational status. The Xenomorphs, despite the humans' efforts, had grown into the thousands, and put a massive strain on the CMC's defenses.

For the next six and a half months, it was complete warfare between the two species. Neither opponent willing to back down, or buckle. This put Guardian-625 in a very precarious position. This time period in GD-625's history would come to be known as the _Xeno Wars_. Very original, we know. Thousands died, either in combat or by Chestburster. Some say you can still smell the odor of acid and ammunition when you walk the utterly charred and destroyed halls of of New Scena, Dimidirupt, and Tenvis. The smell of death.

The genocidal war continued. Alien vs. human. Xenomorph vs. Marine. _Internicivus raptus._ vs. _Homo Sapien._ The monsters vs. the best of the best.

And it was only a matter of time until a third species would get involved.

_Indagator saevus._

...

* * *

**"Worker"= what Xenomorphs would call Drones, if they spoke English.**

**"Soldier"= what Xenomorphs would call Warriors.**

**"Ranger"= what Xenomorphs would call Spitters.**

**"The Aliens always win", has been a point that the Alien movies have strived to prove time and again. Especially with Alien 3 delivering that message like the blow of a sledgehammer. The series has ultimately always been about loss. Ripley has lost her friends, her family, Newt, Hicks, and we eventually see her lose her own life. So the _least_ she could have done was take the Aliens down with her for once (The baby Queen in Alien 3), a truly beautiful story...**

**…until Resurrection went and cocked up both the synergy and the entire point by bringing Ripley back for _literally_ no good reason… and by using really shittily explained "science".**

**The "glow" mentioned in the experiences of the Xenomorph Drone (Worker) is the electric energy that is given off by the human heart. Xenomorphs have a sixth sense called Electroreception- it is commonly found in sharks, electric eels, and catfish. The sense comes from these invisible pores in the skin that detect the electricity made when a living thing moves it's muscles. Given the domed and elongated shape of a Xenomorphs head, it would stand to reason for the dome to be layered with these pores. And as for the Xeno being able to hear the humans heart beat through the ceiling without ears: the shape of a Xenos head would be ideal for sound waves to pass through it, like the echo inside a trombone, making a Xenos' sense of hearing impeccable. A Xenomorph breaths and smells through it's dorsal tubes, and also releases pheromones through these tubes in order to distinguish itself to the rest of its Hive-mates. It also wouldn't be insane to think that Xenomorphs emit a low frequency infrasound, for echolocation. After all without being able to determine the position and shape of objects and obstacles in reference to the Electroreception, a Xenomorphs vision would just be a bunch of glowing shapes.**


	2. Chapter 1: Fate and Cynicism

**(REWRITTEN VERSION)**

**Here are some additional reasons as to why I wrote this story, that I forgot to mention.**

**1\. Xenomorphs are badasses.**

**2\. Alien Resurrection wasn't a suitable sequel to Alien 3, and thus isn't considered canon- not by me, anyway.**

**3\. I'm bored with my life.**

**By the way, this story is set about 3 years after the events of Alien 3 on Fiorina 161. Also, I forgot to mention a few things in last chapters ending note. **

**"Hived": to be restrained in Hive Resin and to have a Chestburster embryo inside you.**

**"Internicivus Raptus": Latin name for Xenomorphs, means "murderous-" or "deadly thief/rapist".**

**"Xenomorph": Latin phrase made up of terms "Xeno"; meaning "strange", or "unknown". And "morph"; meaning "shape", or "form". It's basically a fancier way of saying "alien", or "unknown creature".**

**Just to be clear, the ****_Ancestral_**** influences on the Xenomorph Drone in the last chapter, are really just extremely powerful instincts. Like how most humans have the urge to avoid heights. Except for Xenomorphs, it is much more difficult to resist these urges. Mostly due to the fact that Xenomorphs get pumped up with utterly absurd amounts of adrenaline from their highly advanced adrenal gland. Causing them to go into a drug/instinct induced rage every time someone so much as ****_mentions_**** the word "prey" or "Host".**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Fate and Cynicism**

You know, when you're running for your life, it could easily be forgotten that… you won't really _care_, or think, about what direction you're going in. Especially when you've got about five Xenomorphs on your tail… Warriors no less.

Samantha skidded around another corner, fully aware that making turns would slow her down. And "slow" wasn't something you could afford to be. Not when an angry pack of Xenomorphs was _literally_ on your heals.

As she sprinted down the blue/gray corridor, doors and silver room numbers flying by, she couldn't help but mentally berate herself for being careless. _Yeah, great job Sam. You've _really_ done it this time haven't you?** How could you forget to seal the damn airlock!?**_

You see, for the past 3 months, she _had_ been hiding in the airlock of a large marine tank. On account of the fact that the electric energy of the doors and tunnel blocked out Xenomorph Electroreception. It had been working fairly well- the Alien's's echolocation couldn't go through the air-tight doors, and the heavy smell of chlorine blocked out Samantha's scent. She could pop in and out multiple times, root around for food, and _they'd_ never catch her.

Until- not even joking here… she fucking _forgot_… She forgot to seal the airlock door, and thus, allowed herself to get caught. How the_ Hell_ does a person "forget" to ensure their own safety?! She guessed this just proved how much just _one_ mistake can completely fuck up your chances in a place like this.

She abruptly heard a ***whoosh*** sound and jumped mid-bound to avoid taking a 2-foot blade of black exoskeleton through the shin. The metal sparked and left a deep gash in the floor as the human kept running. Five Xenomorph Warriors close behind. It was a good thing that _Warrior_ Xenomorphs couldn't outrun an award winning track runner, like herself. Otherwise, Samantha would already have, long ago, received a gaping hole in her forehead.

The Xenomorphs behind her snarled in extremely evident frustration, as they continued pursuing her on all-fours. One of them was crawling along the ceiling, another was on the wall to her left, and the other 3 were on the ground… last time she checked, that is. This meant that she pretty much had to guess from where exactly a tail or claw was coming from.

Again, she suddenly cursed as a Xeno tail-blade whipped through the air above her head- _inches_ away from scalping her. This forced her to glance back, unable to shake the urge to determine where her enemies were. The situation hadn't changed, except maybe if they had somehow switched places at some point. They all had their four limbs splayed out to either side, and their heads, spines, and hip joints moving with a constant, spring-like, side-to-side motion; with their arms swinging up and around to reach forward, yanking backwards for forward momentum, like a paddle scooping through water. Their legs looked as if they were swimming- it was much the same way that small lizards move when they run, if she thought about it.

Sam could tell that all five of them were _sprinting_ at full pelt in their pursuit. They were _really_ trying to catch her…

She unknowingly sped up.

Even though Samantha was still keeping a distance of, at least, six feet on average, between her and the Xenomorphs, she knew that she wouldn't be able to keep running- not in _this_ chase. Xenomorphs have proportionally large hearts, like birds. Allowing them to expend more energy over longer periods of time.

They might not have been able to out_run_ her, but they _would_ out_last_ her. Besides, she had already been running for the past 10 minutes, her leg muscles felt like they were on fire, and not even the primal adrenaline rush of _self-preservation_ was providing much motivation to keep moving!

She had to end this chase, fast. But where to go? It isn't like you could hide behind a bloody potted plant!

No… she, and any survivor of the Infestation knew, at this point, that you had to take multiple measures in a Hell-hole like this. Find something with a lot of electricity running through it, cover your scent with something pungent, and make sure that your "home" is sound-proof. That airlock in the marine tank had all of those. Samantha had, sometimes, thought about writing a guidebook on surviving a Xenomorph infestation... should she survive the Infestation itself. But in order to do _that_, she had to survive _this _fine mess.

In her destination-less sprint, she sailed past a large window viewing the forest outside the complex. The five harbingers of death casting dark shadows behind her in the morning light. She looked around, for the umpteenth time, for an exit- an opportunity. Something to get the Xenomorphs off of her tail.

Nothing, just more locked doors and room numbers. She furrowed her brow. For the first time in two weeks, she considered the possibility of dying.

But, alas, a light at the end of the tunnel appeared- a door that was hanging ajar at the end of the blue/gray corridor she had been running in caught her eye. _Yes_! It was only 30 more feet away, and the Warriors behind her weren't gaining any ground, so… she would make it! The only hindrance being that she would have to be very quick about shutting the door behind her. Granted, she had no idea where she would go after that, or what she would do. She supposed she'd have to cross that bridge when she got to it… soon, she would be able to find a new hide-out and get back under the Hive's radar. Soon, she-

Samantha felt something slam into her back. Knocking the wind out of her, and causing something in her ribcage to crack loudly. Whatever had struck her was hissing furiously and seemed to immediately disappear behind her back. Her mind briefly noted that one of the Xenomorphs had probably taken a leap at her. It took her body a moment to properly process the amount of pain the blow had caused her. Her spine flexed inward painfully and it felt as if someone had shanked her between the ribs with a rusty steak knife. It also took a moment for her to realize that the force of the tackle had derailed her feet and legs, and sent her flying through the air.

_No! Fuck no! This cannot be happening, dammit!_, or some variation of those thoughts were all she could mentally register. The situation only got worse when she hit the floor, a mere 15 feet away from her escape.

Aside from the landing causing the pain in her ribs to flare up, the floor immediately fell out from beneath her, crashing and groaning as she plummeted into a sudden darkness. Debris clanging loudly. Time seemed to slow down as Samantha's body spun halfway midair, facing upwards. Nothing seemed… _real_ to her. She couldn't seem to hear anything. It almost felt like a, uh… dream.

When she slammed painfully unto the metal ground - an incredibly loud bang causing time to speed up again - her mind snapped partway back to reality, and her existing injuries flared up once more, along with newer ones. She'd hit her head on something on the way down- a seemingly never-ending, suffocating migraine throbbed in the back of her skull. Stars in her vision.

She could hear the loud thumping of her heart in her ears starting to slow down. Debris, metal, and a few girders fell around her; the sounds of their impacts muffled from all of the blood rushing to her head. Again, everything suddenly felt like it was a shifted reality. As if God had put everything in slow-motion so he could more easily watch what was probably going to be her death.

A section of metal flooring fell on her chest, bringing a whole host of previously undetected pain from elsewhere. Her skull throbbed. Her left shoulder was dislocated. Her right leg was searing in what felt like acid. That square of flooring was crushing her. One of her ribs was probably broken. Her spine ached and felt stiff. And she was _pretty_ sure she felt blood spill down her scalp.

She looked up, bright golden light filling her vision, catching a glimpse of a Xenomorph turning away from the giant hole she had apparently fallen through.

The muffled noises of the structure collapsing dwindled to nothing as the ceiling above her seemed to have had enough with falling apart.

_Well… still a better way to go than by Chestburster_, she thought with a new feeling of acceptance over the pain in her body. At least _this_ way the Xenos wouldn't get the chance to kill her themselves.

She _had_ been a thorn in their side for a while.

As her vision began to fade, and the pain started rushing away like the tide of the ocean, she whispered with a small smile; "at least I won't be a baby Xeno's first meal". She would've laughed if it weren't for the giant piece of metal structure crushing the air out of her lungs.

* * *

The Soldier skidded to a halt as the floor of the structure fell downwards into a dark abyss, the human going with it. The entire floor near the open doorway had been drenched in a dried pool of acid, making the structure extremely fragile. Apparently the human hadn't noticed the corpse of one of his Hive-mates nearby. He stood up on his hind legs and walked to the edge of the hole. The human was down there. The burn in the back of his head died down, as he realized the thing would probably bleed to death. Blood was pouring out of it's head, heart beat extremely slow, crushed under a large square piece of metal. He sent a mental image of the dying human through the Hive-mind, to Mother. His Queen immediately sent back a feeling of irritation, and audibly called him and his group back to the Hive with a loud screech which rang throughout the halls. Mother would have found great satisfaction in the Hiving of this human. And his inability to make his Queen happy, in turn made _him_ annoyed. He turned, stood upright, and walked back the way they had come, barking a short hiss to his group (who had been surrounding the hole themselves) to follow him. He knew that a certain Hive-mate, a Scout, would have to come to this area and patrol it for the next half of the day, or so. To confirm that the human was, indeed, dead. While he and his group would go back to the Hive to eat and rest, this Scout would be cleaning up the Soldier's mess. He felt annoyed at that.

* * *

**An hour-and-a-half, later.**

Ryus had been ordered to search through a specific area for the corpse of a human. And if he didn't find it, he'd have to find out where said human went. That was what constituted about half of the average Scout's life. Although, Ryus was nowhere near "average". Every Scout would take up reconnaissance, and run "search and destroy" tasks for the Hive. Usually about 2-3 of these situations would pop up everyday, giving Scouts like him a lot of spare time. Usually they'd either eat or sleep during their "downtime", even _if_ they weren't tired or hungry. But Ryus was different. _Very different_. His Hive-mates hadn't even given him a second glance to indicate any possibility of knowing, but his _Queen_ had known almost immediately.

His abnormality was seen as an advantage, and thus Ryus was given more free rein and… "trust", as well as fewer responsibilities. And if his "hobby" helped the Hive, then all the better. However, today was one of those days when he had to carry out at least _one_ task for his Queen. And now, Ryus was trotting through a dark hallway. The lack of light and electricity told him that this entire floor had a power cut. Apparently, a human female had taken a nasty drop, and fell from a corridor above him, and onto _this_ floor. His Queen, as well as a particular Soldier, wanted confirmation that the human was dead. What was interesting _about_ this was that the human in question had been quite a troublesome factor for the Hive's existence.

When asked how exactly this human was "troublesome", his Queen told him that this human had avoided detection and capture ever since the Hive had started. How exactly this was "troublesome", Ryus didn't know. If the human was simply staying hidden, avoiding the Hive and its members, what trouble could she be? When Ryus rose this point, the Hive-mates that were present "stared" at him. If they were human they would have "spaced out" for a second, blinked a few times, and then shook their heads, and shook off the point. To _them_ the notion of an "un-captured Host _not_ being a grievance" was incomprehensible. To them, the safety and progression of the Hive was both paramount and mandatory. It was all they could ever want to think about.

But, as mentioned before, Ryus was different. More on that later.

He tilted his head to the left and right, scanning the structure around him. Still nothing. He had been trotting through this floor's hallways for about 20 minutes, and he still had half of the place to go. It was an underground storage facility where the humans placed all of their surplus supplies. He had observed enough to know that the entire planet was a "colony", and a particularly important colony at that. It apparently needed to have supplies like, food, water, and miscellaneous items shipped to it from other worlds.

Why such an important planet couldn't make its _own_ supplies, Ryus didn't know. Maybe they were just lazy. Yeah… probably. Because of the many item's chronic and lengthy necessity standards, the humans had dropped the temperature down to freezing, and shut off the power to the entire floor; in an effort to preserve the various items in here for longer. If the human female _did_ die, then her corpse would be ice cold by the time Ryus found it. Thus, he'd go without a meal. _Of all the places, the human had to die _here, he thought. _Just fucking great_. He'd usually rather _not_ eat humans - more on that later - but because of his current assignment, he was forced to skip eating at the time he usually would. So, now he was hungry.

He opened his maw and breathed in, literally _tasting_ the air, trying to find the distinctive scent of "human". Because he and his breed of Scouts lacked dorsal tubes, he had to breath and smell strictly through his mouth. Meaning that he had a more advanced way of smelling, similar to a "snake". It also meant that he had to have his teeth bared constantly in order to not have to hold his breath all the time. Although, he tried to at least make it _look_ like his mouth was closed.

As, the ice-cold air flowed into his lungs, he stopped moving, catching the scent of something… out of place. A sterile and… purely _artificial_ scent that only humans could have manufactured. He'd smelt it before. _That aquatic tank?_, he mused, skull tilting. The pungent smell of fish and what humans call "chlorine". _Hmmm… Mother _did_ say that the human female had been hiding in a "large box full of water"… could a fish tank be what she was talking about?_, he asked himself. His brain clicked the two details together, and he broke into a sprint toward the source of the scent.

The dark corridors would have been impossible for a human to traverse in, but when you've got a highly advanced form of echolocation, it all just looks black, with a white outline for every object. Well... at least he _thought_ the color was white. Having no "eyes", his kind could not discern color.

He continued running, taking a left turn at an intersection- constantly swiveling his head on its axis, probing for the human. If she was alive, he'd see the electric energy of her heart, diaphragm, and lungs pulsing. If the human was dead, he would find the body through smell.

He swung his skull to the left for the last time, catching a few flashing lines of blue (he _thought_ it was "blue") "light", making him skid to a halt. The human _was_ alive. Heart rate almost painfully slow, diaphragm struggling to breath. The sound of labored breathing passed through Ryus's head. She was barely hanging on. The _Ancestral_ portion of his psyche became eager, but Ryus suppressed the rising burn in the back of his head. _No. When I kill her, I _have_ to remember every second_, he thought to himself, admonishing the part of him that wanted to tear the hominid apart, limb from limb.

One of the things about "giving in" to the urge and the burn, is that it negatively effects your memory of the time period you spend in the trance. He prided himself on his advanced self-control. And thus, kept his cool every time he had to fight or kill… forcing him to remember those moments in excruciating detail.

A constant reminder. A deliberately-made ghost to haunt him. The perfect monument to what he hated the most about his existence. To what he _couldn't_ control…

But, again, more on that later.

He sucked in a quick breath, torso only barely seeming to move, and calmed down. The human was in the fifth room down the hall, on the left. 20 feet away. The female must have been in a great deal of pain. The sound of groaning that passed through his skull being an indicator.

Ryus trotted forward, nearly silently, and toward the small wooden door that stood in the way of those bright blue lines that represented the electricity in the human's muscles. Stopping in front of the closed entryway, he turned and rose to stand on his hind legs and reached for the door handle. Any of his Hive-mates would have knocked the thing off of it's hinges, but Ryus had taken to opening doors slowly and quietly. Despite the constant nagging urge to run in "guns-blazing", created by the _Ancestral_.

His clawed hand closed around the ice cold, copper handle. Ryus could feel his heart-rate speed up. As usual. He suddenly jumped, at the sound of the human launching into a loud coughing fit- startling him. The _Ancestral_ bucked in agitation, even harder. He didn't even know his kind could _be_ surprised… at least not like _that_. He waited until she stopped. After all went silent again, he ever so gently pushed downward… and growled in irritation when the damned handle snapped straight off with a metallic ***chink***.

_Crap_, he thought, raising the small piece of metal up to his dome. Apparently he _would_ have to knock the fucking thing off of it's hinges. _Damn this frigid temperature_, he thought, wondering why the human couldn't have fallen into a sauna. Hissing in distaste, he tossed the broken handle over his shoulder. _Or maybe…_ he wondered, coming up with an idea. His tail independently snaked it's way up and under his right arm, pressing the tip against the wood gently. Just under where the door handle had been.

* * *

Samantha's eyes opened quickly. Immediately greeted by the low, bluish light of the afternoon that flowed through the hole in the ceiling of the room she was in. At first she hadn't the _slightest_ idea what was happening, or what _had_ happened. She groaned, feeling her bones pop and crack as she shifted where she lay. That was when she noticed that she was crushed under a massive, square shaped piece of metal flooring. Then she remembered how she had ended up there. _Oh god, please tell me I didn't survive that_, she begged in her head.

She looked down as a bitter cold tortured her lungs, forcing a cough out of her throat. She was pinned under a few massive steel girders which pressed the square metal flooring down on her that much harder. Her injuries didn't feel as bad anymore. She reached with her right arm around to touch the back of her head. Feeling only what had to be a crusted-over scab under her hair, she concluded that the wound had sealed up before any major blood loss could occur.

Although she still felt _way too_ fucking dizzy from the blood loss that _had_ occurred. She grabbed a lock of her normally brown hair, and pulled it around so she could see it. Stained and matted with crimson. She cringed in disgust and flicked the lock out of her sight. It was still hard to breath, and her leg was still in a sizable amount of pain. But other than that, she was quite lucky.

_Just _fucking_ wonderful_, she thought, frowning. The _one_ time that she actually wanted- no _needed_ to die… and her stupid luck gets in the way. She guessed it must have been her ancestor's Irish descent.

She didn't know how long she'd been unconscious, and she wasn't sure she _wanted_ to know. She tried looking around, but it was too dark to see anything beyond the spotlight that illuminated her position, on account of the massive fuck-off hole in the ceiling. It would have been all upside-down to her anyway, seeing as though she was lying on her back and couldn't sit up… or move _at all_ really. She erupted into a loud coughing fit from the biting cold in her throat. Damn… she probably had a cold now, too.

As morbid and/or painful as it would be, the reality of the situation was that Samantha either needed to find a way to kill herself, or get moving,_ fast_. The Xenomorphs would probably find her easily like this. And they didn't exactly need her in "top condition" to have her Hived. The worst fate imaginable...

That is… if they haven't _already_ found her. Okay, she _really_ needed to get moving! Just as she attempted to get her arms into a position where she could push the debris off of her, she groaned as a new wave of dizziness, and fatigue struck her. Not to mention that her _left_ arm would barely respond to her will, since it was dislocated at the shoulder. Which was weird, because it didn't really hurt that much… that could either be very good or very bad. It could either mean that it wasn't as damaged as it could have been, _or_ it could mean that she somehow lost all of the feeling in her shoulder joints while she was unconscious.

Still, though, she tried to move her arms, again, and made an effort. Another wave of tiredness and pain forced her to stop, and made her limbs suddenly feel as though they were made of lead. What could only be extreme exhaustion set in.

Maybe she should… just go to sleep… yeah… yeah, a nap sounded good at the moment. Samantha closed her eyes to begin floating into blissful slumber...

Her senses shot straight up in alarm, however, when she heard an almost pained "creak". She oriented her head backward to find darkness.

***CRACK!***

Tendrils of fear sprung to action and strangled her throat, taking the air out of her lungs, as a small "hiss" echoed through the air. She gulped.

"Fuck…" she whispered.

Well… what else is there to say?... fuck…

* * *

Ryus felt his tail snap straight through the 5-inch wood and hissed in alarm. _Fuck… I hope she didn't hear that_, he thought. He looked up, only to hear the human whisper a similar curse.

_Fucking hell, why did she have to hear that?_, he asked himself. Seeing no point in taking a subtle approach, he yanked his tail out of the door and stepped back a bit. He dug his clawed feet into the floor, getting ready and gathering power in his legs.

The door exploded into a shower of splinters and stakes as Ryus charged straight through the obstacle. Head down, arm held in front of his chest.

Ignoring the human's loud gasp for the moment, he chirped a few infrasound calls, each sound-wave spreading across the room, touching every nook and cranny. Being that the (now nonexistent) door was sound proof, he hadn't been able to "see" into the room, that way. As the sound-waves bounced back to their source - Ryus's skull - his mind immediately measured how much, and in what way, the sounds had changed. Creating an image for him to see. His kind had photographic memory, allowing them to be able to see the images only once, and still be able to navigate. It also helped in making his species such fast learners.

The room was quite large, filled in every corner with small to large wooden crates, no doubt with labels that Ryus couldn't read. Because he couldn't really discern color. Other than the electric energies that living things give off, that is.

Upon receiving the mental image of the room, he then understood why the human female was in such pain that he had sensed. She was almost crushed by a section of metal flooring and several girders, a lot of them seemed to have acid stains. There was a giant fuck-off hole in the ceiling, flooding the room with low-light.

He then noticed something about the human which surprised him. She appeared to be calmly staring at him… or in his general direction, seeing as how he was still in the shadows. Her calm facade was most likely a reaction to how afraid she truly was, seeing as though an extremely prevalent scent of terror was currently wafting into his mouth. But, instead of screaming, or attempting to get away, like most humans would do… she simply stared at him, wide-eyed. Probably well-aware that her end was approaching.

He chirped a few more infrasound calls, slightly stronger now, and was able to recreate a mental image in his head about what exactly had happened here. Low light was pouring in from the hole in the ceiling above the human, creating a sort of "spotlight" on her. It was evident that she had probably made the weakened building structure collapse in on itself; most likely as she was running.

He then "returned" the "cold stare" she was giving him, as he took loud steps toward her, making sure she heard each footfall. Any of his Hive-mates would have already impaled the human by now, while snarling in rage; and though the _Ancestral _was _loudly_ demanding he do so - in the form of a _searing_ sensation in the back of his head - Ryus adamantly refused. Causing the burn to ebb, and reduce into a bothersome ache. He always gave his victims at least the respect of _seeing_ him first, before he gutted them.

The scent of the girl's (seeing as though she couldn't be much older than 20) fear was almost eye watering… if he _had_ eyes. But, she surprisingly kept her cool, not "freaking out" as he stepped into the light. She could most definitely see him now. Though he didn't have "eyes", as a human did, he could still see light and its' sources, or the lack thereof. If he was correct, he believed that he and his kind possessed an organ called an "eye spot"- evidently somewhere on his skull. Despite his complete exposure, she still only gave him a unwavering stare.

_Damn_, he thought,_ tough girl_. I mean, she _had_ just survived a near-death experience, and he was about to kill her, yet she managed to compose herself. Whether from a need to remain dignified, or because of how debilitating her terror was, it was _still_ impressive. Even _if_ it couldn't really be considered "bravery".

That burning came back again. _No! Fuck off! I _have_ to remember this!_, he affirmed to himself, and his instincts, even though his instincts… weren't really intelligent… or even alive for that matter. In truth, he didn't _enjoy_ remembering these kinds of things, in fact he was probably the only one of his kind that even enough to give this kind of stuff any thought. But he felt he had an _obligation_… to _remember_.

A responsibility.

Again, more on that later.

He swung his tail up, over his shoulder… and gently rested the tip of the spear on the female's forehead… resisting the urge to wantonly mutilate the human, as his instincts kept begging him to do. The human squirmed a little as the bronze exoskeleton of his blade drew a drop of blood, on account of it being insanely sharp. But she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Causing Ryus to respect this human even more.

He barked a short hiss at her, hoping the silent message got through.

"Sayonara, mate".

* * *

**So... what do you think of our two main characters? I know you're probably asking how and why Ryus is so different, and seemingly smarter. All in due time, my children. All in due time. Expect an explanation at some point (and a pretty damn good one).**

**The echolocation that is described in Ryus's assessment of the storage room, is most likely how Xenomorphs navigate. Plus, the domed parts of their skulls doubles as an eye spot, as well as being an Electroreception satellite.**

**"Eye spot": a primitive version of an eye that can't detect color, but only light and dark. An organ that organisms such as worms or insects often have. It would make sense for Xenomorphs to have this, to be able to tell light from darkness in order to hide properly.**

**"Scout": What Xenomorphs would call Runners, if they spoke English.**


	3. Chapter 2: Complications

**(REWRITTEN VERSION).**

**Hey, you know the, so called, "inner jaws" that Xenomorphs have? The thing that they use to "Head Bite" people? Well, I've come up with an _actual name_ for them! I've decided to call it... the "Piston Jaw"… because they shoot outward like pistons. I _would _have called it a "Skull Hole Puncher", but that would have been a mouthful to say in conversation.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Throughout the Xenomorph infestation, fear had been a constant companion to Samantha, in some form or another. She had _always_ been afraid. There was the near-endless, overbearing sense of dread and suspense; forever worried and concerned of her supplies, her location and whether or not she had been detected by the Hive. The sensation that always caused her to look over her shoulder as she walked, and made her become deathly silent in everything she did - so as to not attract the Hive's attention.

And then there was the feeling of adrenaline _slamming_ through her veins; the overpowering urge to _move_, along with something that made her skin feel like it was on fire. The feeling of a pure, primal urge to flee, such as when she had been chased by those five Warriors, earlier. Oh, yes, she had been forced to run from the Xenomorphs on many occasions. So being afraid was not an _uncommon _emotion...

So why was it different _now_? How was it _truly_ affecting her at _this_ point? Despite her fears, she had always been able to _act_\- always able to get out of dangerous situations, and always able to push through her adversities. After all, that's what being brave is about. Having the will to _push through_. But why was it that she felt as if - even if she had physically _able_ to - she couldn't do that _here_? What was it about _this_ situation that had her ready to die on the spot from a fear-induced heart attack?

…she had an idea. What she was feeling _now_, went beyond mere worry, or "fight-or-flight". Samantha was experiencing the very _heights_ of an emotion called Terror. The undiluted, overpowering feeling of wide-eyed, limb-locking fear, mixed with a sense of helplessness was taking away her ability to even _think_ properly. As the Xenomorph stepped out of the shadows, this feeling maximized tenfold. She didn't even realize the fact that this particular Xenomorph looked nothing like what she'd seen before. The thought never occurred to her. What _was_ coming to mind, were the hundreds of possibilities as to what would happen to her. Thousands of scenarios flashed across her eyes- many of a gory, painful death, and few of a painless one. Some of being dragged back to the Hive to be impregnated, and others of situations that weren't even _possible_.

This is when the feeling of Ambiguity gets thrown into the mix. Every moment feels like a _fucking_ eternity, and time seems to slow down, _just_ for _her_. As if the universe would like to watch her demise in slow motion. The suspense of what was only a scant few moments was utterly _killing_ her right now- all the while, her dread and Terror only increased. Even her body's urge to hack her lungs out from the piercing cold was being overridden by her fear.

No… she was stronger than this… come on- she should have more dignity than to freeze up the _one_ time she happens to be helpless! If… _that_ makes any sense. Her train of thought did not go particularly far, nor in any recognizable direction.

Such as it was, Samantha almost couldn't suppress a yelp when the Xeno's tai-blade swung over it's shoulder and smoothly, slowly glided downwards to touch her forehead, causing her to squirm underneath it. For a few moments, the blade simply held it's position.

It is then that she realized with perfect… cognizant clarity that… she was going to die. Despite that she already _knew_ she would, as soon as she heard that tell-tale "crack", of something snapping through (what sounded like) wood. It still took those few seconds for her to process the facts.

Now that it was confirmed that the Xeno planned on killing her _here_ and _now_, and probably painlessly with it's weapon in the perfect position to do so… Samantha couldn't help but sigh and close her eyes in relief. _Good… it's not planning on having me Hived_, she thought with no small amount of peace flooding her system.

With fear no longer clouding her brain, she began breathing deeply, ready to welcome the hand of the Grim Reaper. She felt a warm liquid drip down into her hair, probably blood, but she was too busy getting ready to die, to care about _that_ at the moment.

* * *

Ryus was about to kill the human. Simple. Just drive his tail downwards, barely requiring a twitch of effort from him, and watch the life and blood ebb away. As usual. Listen to the crack of the human's skull as his blade punctured through her brain matter. Right. His life probably would have been _so_ much simpler had this gone to plan. But, he would also come to realize that his life would have also been a lot more… shallow, had he killed the human female that was saying her prayers beneath his tail blade. But… fate decided, he didn't know when, to make _this time_… a little bit different. Something that Ryus would both scorn, and inwardly smile at later on.

He took a deep breathe, resisting the urge to lose control to the _Ancestral- _to his own instincts. He stared at the human girl who had not shown fear, who had kept her cool in the face of her mortality.

He urged his tail to raise up a bit. The humans eyes opened, looking at the blade, before closing again.

And he brought his tail down with all his strength and speed-

_Hold on…_

He _swore_ that he _heard_ the tell-tale snap of bone cracking, but...

_Wait…_, he thought, _why aren't I moving?_ His tail hadn't smashed through the human's skull.

He tried again, trying to make his tail obey him, but something… something is… he couldn't' tell what… he immediately started to worry.

_Am I paralyzed or something?_, he asked himself, worriedly, grasping at a proverbial straw. Ryus tested this by removing his tail from its hovering position. Okay, no problem. He then tested this a bit further by attempting to step backwards. Again, no problem.

Ryus's body twisted at the waist and launched his tail under his arm- toward the human's skull. Again, he did not hear anything. Maybe… his tail blade was numb, and he couldn't feel it strike? But… it stopped within a few inches of her head. An infrasound chirp showed him that it indeed, had not killed the girl. It also let him know that she was staring at him. Which was odd, because he could have easily reached her from this distance. 4 feet to be exact. He began drawing his tail back to him as his mind struggled to figure this out, utterly confused. Okay, this… this is just plain weird.

It was like… it was like trying to push two magnets together by the wrong end- it wasn't working!

He was about to try again, but any thought of "trying" anything was immediately dropped when he entered a world of undiscovered agony.

The most intense pain shot through his spine so fast, he stumbled backward with a surprised screech, falling straight onto his back. Shrieking in pain while flailing about on the floor. A suffocating pain strained against the confines of his skull, as the lance of fire in his spine seemed to double in it's efforts to torture him. He let out a strangled-sounding howl.

_WHAT THE FUCK!?_ He struggled to get back to his feet, still dealing with what felt like hot knives being plunged into his spinal cord. He hadn't the slightest idea which way was "up".

Okay- scratch "worried", he was actually downright terrified, now! Living things don't just "experience pain" for no reason! _Especially_ not at _this_ caliber!

As soon as he staggered and climbed back onto alarmingly shaky legs, he was knocked forward onto all fours as a new wave of agony smashed into him. Violently. _STOP DAMMIT… ARGH! WHAT THE HELL'S WRONG WITH ME!? _His head suddenly felt like it was being split in two… in more ways than one. His hands started madly scratching at his head, trying to get the pain to _fuck off_, while only creating more! He was hissing and growling in staccato bursts- shrieking in tortured agony. Sounds that he had never made before in his life- guttural hisses and pitiful keens that could only come from sheer, unadulterated, raw _**pain**_.

Unbeknownst to him, he had started erratically convulsing on the floor- clawing at what he _thought_ was his head. The pain never stopped, never let him breathe, and only seemed to get worse with each moment.

He felt himself beginning to… lose… consciousness…

_Am I going to die?_, his mind briefly wondered, somewhere amongst the myriad of pained and primal thoughts.

And then…

Then suddenly i-it wasn't _just him_ and- and his _Ancestral_ instincts anymore. H-he could feel his mind stretch, as his p-ppp-psyche sp-split from two halves, into three th-thirds. He… he could feel a _second_… _thing **in his head**_! It made him feel nauseous. He'd never felt like throwing up before, but he was beginning to get a grasp of the notion.

But then, just like that, the pain fell away in quick, relieving sheets. Letting him think straight for a moment. He stopped moving and simply lay there, panting heavily, trying to get his bearings. He eventually got up onto all-fours, crouched low to the ground, seeing as though he had been lying on his stomach.

_What the Hell!?_, he thought, in anger more than shock or surprise.

Breathing in seethed and strained gasps, he searched inward, seeing if his _Ancestral_ instincts had any idea what had happened. And to… see if he could sense that "second presence" he had felt a moment ago. He found that there was _him_, of course, his personality, his memories; Ryus. Then there were the _Ancestral Instincts_ that are present in all his kind. And then there was… something else. Something… softer; innocent… simpler. It felt almost identical to his instincts, in how it was nothing more than a, uh, _"urge"_. Yet, he could still feel the difference between the two. Right now, the _Ancestral_ was utterly confused and "nervous", and this new… "instinct"…

For the moment, this new entity was simply… Ryus didn't know- asleep? Dormant?

And strangely it seemed to have an… equally large presence in his head than that of the _Ancestral_! Ryus didn't know what to do- this was unheard of. Wait, was it? He mentally looked to the _Ancestral_, and it was silent. No… this has never happened before. _That… this… I don't… what the Hell?_, he mentally bumbled, dumbly.

He didn't dare to move; worried that any kind of movement might provoke another "seizure episode". Wondering if anything remotely notable, other than his "spazzing out session", had happened, he emitted multiple infrasound chirps. As the mental images came back to his head, he couldn't help but orient his head downward. Large pieces of wood and a few splinters. He had apparently fallen on top of a crate, destroying it. Luckily there was nothing inside. And even_ more_ luckily, his skin was "splinter-proof".

Wanting to see a constant, "moving" visage of his environment, he began releasing a hyperactive torrent of infrasound waves. To a human, it would have looked as if he was breathing very deep, drawn out breathes. The constant, hyperactive waves of infrasound barraged Ryus's mind as they bounced off of everything in the room; with about a thousand photo-sonic "images" a second. Doing this was almost no strain, neither on his mind, nor his heart. This "hyperactive sonar" was a technique that Ryus had taught himself, thus he is the only of his kind that has ever used this ability. With this application of his echolocation, he'd be able to actually _see_ movement. Such as, a human's eye blinking, or tall tufts of grass wavering about. Otherwise, he'd only be getting a sort of "freeze-frame" perception that would only change if something made a sound, or if he emitted a chirp to "update". Though, he found that he was the only one of his kind who even took notice to this kind of thing…

Putting his talent to use, his mind automatically linked up the images received into a constant stream. Giving him "human-ish" perception. The (supposedly) white outlines that made up the world around him brightened slightly, and steadily flashed with the incoming images of infrasound. He slowly oriented his head in the direction of the human girl, who had (obviously) not moved while his mind had supposedly been splitting itself in two.

She was staring at him as though he had grown a second head.

_Well_, he thought, grumbling in his mind,_ I might as _well_ have_. All of a sudden, the newly discovered "second influence" took that moment to… to well up with joy at the sight of the human? Until this point this… this _Unknown_ had been utterly silent. It caused him to drop the hyperactive sonar, leaving him with a murky image of the human girl; as her bones still emitted electricity. The completely abrupt flow of… _happiness_ pulsing from this _Unknown_ could only be described as… reuniting with a long lost friend…

WHICH WAS ABSOLUTELY, FUCKING INSANE! Ryus had never seen this human before in his life! And he'd only been **alive** for **four months**, so he should know! Furthermore, he didn't even know there _was_ a specific emotion tied to meeting someone you know after a while apart, until now! And besides… he never forgot a face… he'd slaughtered enough humans to remember every one of their faces…

And their screams.

He shook his head, growling slightly. Pushing the haunting sounds away from his priorities. The human female, who had calmed down considerably due to her curiosity at his torture, then whimpered a bit in fear. Probably because of his evident agitation. Testing to see if he would be struck with another seizure or not, Ryus pushed up to stand on all fours, before he sat down on his hind legs; hunched over a bit, as the _Unknown_… wait…what!? After wavering with… _regret_ at the girls fear it… pulsed with SUBMISSION!?

Okay, it was _one thing_ to think of a human as a friend, but to be _submissive_ to one!? _That_ was borderline _sacrilege_! What was this _Unknown _thinking!? If _anything _the female should be submissive to _him_! Wait- why was Ryus even having this argument with himself!?

_Because this _Unknown_ is being so… _stupid!, Ryus thought. What was the deal with this thing? Its as if it isn't even… of his own species! Ryus suddenly wanted nothing more than to kill the girl! Like he _should_ do! The sooner he could leave the human there as a _corpse_, the sooner he could head back to the Hive and get something to eat! The _Unknown _seemed to mentally fidget in protest at the notion of the human dying. _Oh, shut the _fuck_ up! What's so bloody special about her!? She's just a lousy human!_, Ryus thought to himself as he tilted his head at the ground and snarled. As if the _Unknown_ was sitting next to him.

Predictably, the _Unknown_ gave no kind of communicable response, just kept pulsing in defensiveness of the girl. It _was_ a part of his subconscious (apparently), after all, so what did her expect it do? Maybe… Ryus grabbed his head and shook it, growling and warbling in frustration in a very "human" gesture. All of this mental buggery was giving him a head-ache. Ryus probably wouldn't have minded the addition of a second instinctual influence on him. He _might_ have been intrigued by it. The _Ancestral_ had never been a problem, so what would be this _Unknown_ in comparison? Except for the fact that this _UNKNOWN _WAS A COMPLETE FUCKING _TOOL_! Friendship, submissiveness, and protective of a human!? What kind of _idiot_ would you have to be!?

Ryus pushed up from his sitting position and stood straight up onto his hind legs, snarling. His tail lashed furiously, and his jaws started opening, as drool began to drip from his teeth. His opinion of this _Unknown_ was not a good one. Contempt and alarm made both him _and _the _Ancestral_ angry! He looked back at the human, her heartbeat was flashing almost _teasingly_ as a new wave of terror seemed to pass over her. She could tell that Ryus was angry. His fists actually clenched, he was _really_ tempted to just hand over himself control to the _Ancestral_. This human _was_ troublesome! He didn't think she _needed_ to be remembered as vividly as usual!

Not with the trouble her execution was turning out to be.

He took a hostile step forward, crushing a stake of wood under his clawed foot with a echoing _snap_. His ribcage began vibrating deeply, creating a guttural, rumbling, growling sound; aggression rising. The fearsome noise gave off the same pitch and frequency of a motorcycle engine (not that _Ryus_ knew what _that_ was), and completely filled the corners of the ice cold room; causing the human to whine, almost pathetically and shrink in on herself.

The _Ancestral_ would have been violently trembling in anticipation right now. If he kept this up and allowed the "floodgates" to open up, setting the wrath of his instincts upon the human, the entire experience, for _him_, would be over in seconds. It would just be a blur; he'd remember almost _nothing_. But… then he reminded himself that, nevertheless, she was _still_ a thinking, feeling organic being. And thus, _deserved_ to be remembered by at least _someone_. Well… to _her_ it would be a some_thing_. And besides… it just wouldn't be fair to allow his ancestor's fury to be set lose on _her_, while she was utterly defenseless. Ryus was well aware that he may _never_ understand what it felt like to be _truly_ helpless, but… he could… _sympathize_… as difficult as that was for the _Ancestral_ to deal with.

_Just… take a moment… and calm down… control must be maintained… shove the _Ancestral_ instincts back_, Ryus told himself, repeatedly in his head. His lips closed, hiding his bared teeth. His tail began swishing passively off to the side. And his hands relaxed themselves. With control restored, he took another step forward, not nearly as aggressive this time. He was now standing over her.

He was about to raise his arm and lop the girls head off, with his claws alone, _Ancestral_ becoming exited once more, _Unknown_ protesting again. However… Ryus then remembered how well it had worked out the _last _time he had tried killing her. Not 5 minutes ago.

He then became concerned whether or not he would have another seizure-esque "episode" if he attempted to end the human's life. Unwilling to go through _that_ again, he backed away, stopping next to the doorway. Besides… he doubted that the _Unknown_ would appreciate it if he somehow _did_ kill the human. And seeing as how this "arrangement" would probably last for a while, he didn't want the fuckin' thing to go berserk so early into their "relationship".

Who _knows_ what it could do… considering it seemed to have a profound affect on him before.

Ryus wondered what the human must have been thinking through all of this. He inwardly laughed at how completely ridiculous this situation would look from the outside. A cursory infrasonic chirp told him that the female was now practically _gaping_ at him in complete morbid captivation.

* * *

Samantha was _really_ confused now. The Xeno seemed to have some sort of seizure, and destroyed a wooden crate in the process. She had to look away as the splinters went flying. She then stared at it for what seemed like hours before it ceased convulsing. When it growled, she couldn't help but whine a little. Its seemingly "calm" demeanor before could be slipping away. Was it rethinking its decision about killing her, or having her Hived? But, the creature then sat down, ignoring her for a while, seemingly in… "deep thought". This had _never_ happened before. Was something wrong with it? Or… could she be hallucinating?

She shook her head. _No, if I was hallucinating, this would have to be the most vivid "tripping" session_ ever, she resolved. Although… she _did_ receive a knock to the head…

The Xenomorph snarled at something she couldn't see, then stood up and advanced on her angrily. Her eyes widened in terror.

Then the Xeno calmed down, its aggression receding.

_Is this thing bi-polar or something!? Could it just make up its fucking mind already!?_, she thought irritably. The creature did _the last_ thing she expected, it backed away… calling for one of its friends? _Not_ going to kill her? Why _her_, specifically? She was pretty sure this had never happened with any _other_ humans.

She started thinking that it would just leave her alone.

***BANG*** ***BANG***.

***BANG*** ***BANG***

A distant sound reverberated through the room- Samantha could almost fell the vibrations in the metal floor.

***Gulp***.

* * *

Ryus had no idea what to do. The _Ancestral_ was practically _nagging_ him to kill the human. And the _Unknown_ seemed relieved, yet wary at Ryus backing away from the female. If he couldn't kill the human without going all "exorcist" (as he'd heard another human describe), then what was he going to do?

How was he going to explain this to Mother? What? He couldn't kill the human female because of a seizure, and a new instinctual _presence_ in his head!? Even to _Mother_, that would sound insane!

But then… a saving grace. The thundering footsteps of one of his Hive-mates… a Soldier, by the sound of it.

Huh… maybe he wouldn't _have_ to come up with an excuse afterall…

* * *

**Once again, I have to clarify, the "_Ancestral" _is simply a collection of instincts built up by the the ancestors of Xenomorphs. NONE OF THE XENOMORPHS HAVE SPLIT PERSONALITY SYNDROME! The same goes for the _Unknown; _unlike 99% of the Xenomorph population, to _Ryus_, both of these things would be a negligible factor to him; in general.**

**The "hyperactive sonar" described by Ryus's experiences will serve as an explanation for Ryus always "looking" in different directions.**


	4. Chapter 3: Crossing the Rubicon

**(REWRITTEN VERSION).**

**To "Cross the Rubicon", essentially means to "cross the point of no return". It was taken from an ancient Roman battle, look it up.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: (Unwillingly) Crossing the Rubicon**

The sound of the Soldier's thundering footsteps was music to Ryus's skull. Swinging his head to face toward the sound, Ryus could see the pulsing blue of his Hive-mate's powerful heart and diaphragm, as well as the solid streaks of cobalt that constituted the Soldiers' legs, arms, and tail as he ran toward Ryus's location. The approaching Soldier was jogging upright instead of sprinting on all fours, as it would normally do. Probably because of the presence of the human girl.

Speaking of, said human was now squirming beneath the weight of the debris she was trapped under. She whimpered slightly as the intensity of her fear tripled. He could tell she was becoming desperate.

Ryus lowered himself to his default position on all fours, upon feeling his hind legs tremble under the weight of holding him upright. His clawed hands had become slightly thicker than that of his Hive-mates, on account of him constantly walking on them. Ryus stared at the incoming Soldier through the walls, he tasted the smell of his Hive-mate's alarmed state through his bared teeth. Why would this newcomer be alarmed? Sure, there was a human here, but Ryus knew that his Hive-mates could usually tell the difference between a "deadly" and "defenseless" enemy- even through a wall.

Briefly skidding to a stop outside the room, the Soldier made a short leap through the open doorway, landing on his feet, instantly orienting his head in Ryus's direction and hissing quietly. Ryus smelled the pheromones of concern and alarm exuding from the Soldiers dorsal tubes, a minute amount of oozing liquid dripping from the very organ. As the newly arrived Soldier turned fully to face Ryus and walked to within a few feet of him, the human girl squirmed even more- in vain, however, as the Soldier ignored the human's presence for the moment. It did not take long for Ryus to figure out why this Soldier seemed to be focusing on _him_ exclusively.

Being that Ryus was the nearest Scout, all other breeds of his kind would be under every obligation to "report" to him, seeing as though his telepathic ability was more powerful than theirs in order for him to communicate with the Queen from longer distances, and for longer periods of time… and more frequently. Scouts _were_ "scouts" after all, and would have needed to be able to relay _any_ information they find to Mother regularly, and from considerably distances.

A human might have seen this as Ryus being of a "higher rank", but that simply wasn't the case. All of his kind were equally devoted and important to the Hive's success… well, most of them. Some just happen to have a higher amount of responsibilities. It wasn't like any of Ryus's Hive-mates would have bothered to understand the concept of "ranking", anyway.

The Soldier stood over Ryus (as Ryus himself leaned back to sit on his hind legs) and lowered his carved head, pushing a mental link to inform Ryus of… well, "whatever", really. It was then that Ryus noticed that this Soldier was relatively young, the carvings on his skull being smooth looking; vaguely similar to the patterns on a human invention called a "tennis ball".

This distinctive cranial marking placed the Soldier at being only 2 inches bigger than Ryus, about 7 feet tall while fully upright. As this Soldier aged, he would have molted about 12 times, until he stood at 8ft. After six months a Soldier would stop molting and end up with a ridged/carved skull pattern that would have reminded Ryus of the tracks that a motorcycle would leave in the dirt; had he known what exactly _that_ was.

Ryus then felt his skull buzz in that old, familiar way as the Soldier transmitted his memories of… apparently, "why he was here". Ryus's "vision" faded into a slightly murky, and faded "recording".

According to what Ryus "half-saw" from the memories being sent to him, the Soldier now standing before him had apparently been walking a regular patrol around the human complex when he had noticed Ryus's convulsing, and had immediately gone to, sort of, "check on him". This knowledge may have offered Ryus a sort of warm comfort, a while ago. Though, Ryus doubted this Soldier knew that what had been happening to Ryus was called a "seizure". Ryus shook his head as the memories of the Soldier got to the point approaching the present. Canceling out the transmission, while signaling that he had "heard enough".

Ryus looked back up at his young Hive-mate, seeing the Soldier shake his own head and look back to Ryus like he just had. Ryus felt a concerned feeling pulse from the Soldier's mind to his.

_Oh, he wants to know what happened… uh…_, Ryus thought.

_"Um, I don't really want to talk about it, mate. Maybe I'll tell you later"_, Ryus spoke mentally in response.

Though Ryus knew that this Soldier didn't know a lick of English, he also knew that the guy _would_ be able to sense the dismissive feeling that pulsed from within Ryus's brain.

Ryus sensed what felt… _almost_ like _curiosity_ come from the Soldier's mind, but, the feeling quickly died away as the Soldier immediately dismissed the thought. _Ah._ _Of _course_ he would immediately dismiss something like that_, Ryus thought a bit tiredly. The Soldiers reaction to his use of English was completely predictable.

The young Soldier then turned to the human girl, seemingly noticing her for the first time and almost instantly hissed and growled, baring his teeth in anger. Ryus could almost taste the scent of adrenaline, testosterone, and anger wave out of the Soldier's dorsal tubes.

He would have rolled his eyes.

_Probably gonna go "strike down the human female in complete and utter mindlessness and fury"_, Ryus thought lazily, as if unenthusiastically reciting something from a paper.

The young Soldier quivered in barely hidden rage, body shaking as his tail lashed, growling at the sight of the _injured_, not to mention _harmless_ human girl. Ryus would have rolled his eyes again at the young Soldier's _careless_ transition into a rage and adrenaline induced trance. The Soldier took hostile steps toward the girl, causing her to instantly gape in terror, as all reason (however small it may have been) left his mind and turned him into nothing more or less than a killing machine whose only impulse is to kill anything and everything of a different species.

If Ryus were human, he'd have spat in distaste at the thought.

Ryus calmly watched in a sitting position as his Hive-mate raised his arm, fingers stiff, ready to slice out the human's jugular with his claws. At this, the girl suddenly lost consciousness from… stress? Fear? Whatever.

The young Soldier pulled his right arm back, preparing to end the enemy's life with the speed and accuracy of a wrathful god. The _Ancestral_ seemed to jump in excitement, the _Unknown_ protesting with the ferocity of a cornered animal, as Ryus bit back both influences. Maintaining just enough control. Allowing the Soldier to do his job for him. Ryus did not need to hear either of them- the situation brought him enough trepidation as it is. Ryus wished that he could have closed his eyes before he watched another life be senselessly taken.

Besides, the issue would be resolved, and nothing would go wrong, probably…

… that's when shit hit the fan.

Because, it was in that moment - when the Soldier's arm was just about to begin it's downward swing - that, all of a sudden… Ryus's lip twitched in anger. He-he could feel his so-well-maintained self-control slip away at an alarming rate. Something was making him _angry_. Very, **very** angry. He clutched his skull with his hands in sudden panic. The strongest impulse he had ever experienced before was… taking over. His efforts to keep his brain from going apeshit were ultimately null and void, in the end. Ryus could _feel_ what it was that his sudden spike of fiery rage was about to make him do. He knew that it was a **very bad** idea, but… deep down, _somewhere_ in him, he could also feel that, to a degree, it was what he _wanted_. In a very abrupt and odd way.

"No" was all Ryus managed to think before all cognizant thought was forced to "take the back seat", so to speak. Looking back, Ryus believed that what he felt was quite possibly, one of the only times he had ever been truly _angry_ for any justifiable reason. In the moment, it was just terrifying, and confusing. But later on… well… I suppose that's a story for another day, isn't it? The experience felt similar to going into the instinct driven trance that Ryus would have gone in while defending the Hive or attacking humans, if he'd always allowed the _Ancestral_ to run rampant. But in _this_ instant, rather than becoming a "fuzzy" collection of murky images, afterwards, everything he saw was _quite_ vivid.

Something else that frightened Ryus was… the emotion of rage didn't feel entirely… _"borrowed"_, as it did when his _Ancestral_ instincts overwhelmed him. This time it felt like… something in _him_ was… _"__contributing"_ to the feeling of red hot _anger_. He just… didn't really know what it _was_, at this point.

What he _did_ know, was that there wasn't much doubt as to "what" was shoving his control aside to "take the wheel". Drool quickly began dripping from between his teeth. His entire body trembled, spasmed, and twitched in complete and total fury. His jaws snapped open releasing a dangerous snarl which seemed to increase Ryus's body temperature tenfold- as well as making the searing magma in the back of his head boil at a whole new caliber.

The best way to describe the experience would be as… seeing through your eyes but having little to no control over your actions. Like, being caught up in the effects of a narcotic substance- you just… _**DO THINGS**_.

Ryus watched in furied astonishment as "he" suddenly leaped forward with more speed than he thought possible. Ryus watched as his clawed hands reached out and violently gripped the Soldier's shoulder-ridges. "Ryus" then yanked the young Soldier down and away from the unconscious human female with a snarl, just as the Soldier's arm had swung down to tear out her throat. The whole thing happened so quickly that Ryus couldn't even think before it ended. All he knew was rage.

The Soldier, Ryus's Hive-mate, looked back at Ryus over his shoulder in surprise, shock, and confusion… just as Ryus's Piston Jaw smashed through the side of the Soldiers head…

Killing almost instantly.

A spray of acidic blood flew out of the fatal wound and struck the side of a nearby wooden crate; immediately eating through the normally durable material with a loud hiss. The mortally wounded Soldier could only screech in pain, quickly dissolving into quiet hisses of shock. Ryus watched in horror - yet somehow, grim satisfaction - from the "backseat" of his mind, as he saw the trembling corpse of his dead Hive-mate be tossed off to the side like garbage. Whatever livid fury that had seized control of him fell away as quickly as it had come. And Ryus was almost too stunned to fully _take back_ the "wheel".

Feeling that he was about to fall over if he didn't regain his balance, Ryus shifted on his feet, returning to a fully lucid state.

At first, Ryus didn't move. Refusing to believe what he had so clearly witnessed.

_No… that wasn't… this had _better_ be some sort of convoluted dream!_, Ryus begged to himself.

He slowly oriented his head toward the corpse of the Soldier he… yes, that _he_ had killed.

The body had ceased quivering in post-mortem spasms, and lay motionlessly, acidic blood streaming out of where Ryus had Head-bitten the poor bastard, to drip soundlessly to floor from the tip of the Soldiers chin, instantly sizzling where it landed. Ryus, still in shock of what had just occurred, absentmindedly moved his feet to trudge over and stand above the corpse of his Hive-mate. Every step felt like it weighed a ton. Once hovering over the recently made cadaver, he hunched over, slightly… and not just because it was his natural posture. Ryus stared at the body, baring his teeth to let out a breathe he realized he had been holding in. He breathed in a strained inhale and held his breathe once more, concealing his fangs. The _Ancestral_ had become deathly silent, seemingly as stunned as Ryus, and the _Unknown_ would have been smiling in grim satisfaction.

He felt like telling the _Unknown_ to shut it's useless mouth. But… he couldn't find any motivation to do so.

He continued staring blankly at the lifeless corpse. What had used to be a living, breathing, organism.

For a very long moment, Ryus didn't move. Mind, a blank. He was still mentally stalled; trying to find any other possible reality or "answer" to what he had just done. Trying in vain to escape what he knew was the cold, hard fact of the matter.

_Bugger…_, Ryus eventually thought, a bit dumbly, as his shoulders seemed to slump.

_I've just committed semi-fratricide_, he thought, just as dumbly. He was still for another long moment.

_WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME!?_, he wailed in his head. He staggered a few steps backward, in the direction of the doorway, in shock, clutching and shaking his head in disbelief, as the full gravity of the situation crashed down on him. He began to breathe erratically through gritted teeth. Seething. Out of panic, he tripped over his own feet and feel over onto his back. Unable to remain motionless, he sat up, putting a painful weight on where his tail met his spinal cord. He didn't notice, _or_ bother to get back up.

He let out a long, loud screeching wail up to the ceiling in anguish, his claws digging into his head. Drawing yellow-green blood, dripping to the floor and sizzling.

He then let go of his skull and scrambled got back on to all fours, out of a need to simply _move_. He started pacing in circles around the unconscious human female that he didn't seem to acknowledge the existence of. His body hung low to the ground, limbs sprawled out to either side, back and tail moving in a lizard-like fashion. As if preparing to leap to the side to evade something. Breathing in gasping snarls, drool dripping from his partially opened jaws from panic and elevated heart rate.

_WHY?! WHY DID I KILL HIM?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!_, he half whined/screamed within his thoughts.

_What could have possibly possessed me to do that?!_, he questioned. Even though he hadn't really been in the right state of mind to actually _do_ what he did, it still was _his_ body, and _his_ actions! And no one would have believed otherwise!

He stopped pacing and held his breathe suddenly.

The Hive…

They'd… they'd hunt him down and tear him apart… he'd have to run away- to _where_, though? He had just killed his own Hive-mate for _fuck's_ sake! The only correct response would be to find him and put him down immediately! No. No, there _was_ no escape from the Hive, no escape from the wrath of Mother's Soldiers! He was practically a _fugitive_, and the entire Hive would be under every obligation to find him, fuck him up, and eat his bloodied corpse!

Ryus honestly felt like, and wished, he could cry. He hissed at the ground in helplessness.

It was _over_ for him.

He was practically _dead_ now.

Ryus was about lay down on his side and curl up into a ball- wait for the inevitable vengeful wrath of the Hive to come and send him to the Void…

_Hold on a minute…_

He had an epiphany…

THIS WAS _NO_ TIME TO PANIC!

What was he thinking!? He had just spent the last forty-five seconds and almost all of his brainpower _panicking_! He was acting like a newborn Worker separated from the Queen! He was _not_ using his intelligence productively! And that. Wouldn't. Do. Not at all!

With somewhat renewed composure, Ryus stood straighter on his legs and sat down.

_Alright… have to think… have to sort this out_, he thought with conviction.

His "gaze" landed on the dead Soldier, as he began to mentally think through this situation.

Okay. He killed a fellow Hive-mate. Probably the closest thing to a "crime" that his kind had. This would be seen as utterly unacceptable. And he would be hunted down by his former Hive and killed on the spot. It was an instinct built up to counter-act any form of "insanity", disease, or mental disorder that some of his species can catch. Ryus had seen this kind of thing happen before. Only once. A Soldier had received an infection from a bullet wound, and was slain by the closest Sentry when the ailment became apparent. It was clear to Ryus that his kind _rarely_ came down with any kind of disease or illness, but when they _did_ the effect was undoubtedly devastating; if not to the individual, then potentially to the rest of the Hive. After all, a crazed Hive-mate with a lust for blood, running rampant through a Hive can be a serious problem.

He briefly wondered if _he was_ insane, but dismissed it, for it would only make him panic again.

He _then_ thought about what he could _do_ about it.

He couldn't return to the Hive, for Mother would easily be able to pick up on any thought that he had, search his memories, and instantly label him as a target… At least at _that_ range. He was currently on the outskirts of the human complex, thus was about a kilometer away from the Hives' center, and a kilometer away from Mother. At this distance and beyond, the only thing that Mother could do in terms of the Hive-mind was _communicate_ with him. If he were to get within 300 yards of her, she'd be able to read his thoughts. His breed of Scouts had very powerful telepathy, almost comparable to a Queen's. They'd _have_ to have an increased empathic capacity because of their increased need to communicate with the Queen _herself_. They weren't called "Scouts" for no reason, and thus would report to their Queen constantly to relay information.

Because of his powerful telepathy, Ryus was one of the few that _could_ communicate with the Queen at _this_ kind distance. At least _alone_. A _group_ of his kind could make for a strong enough "signal" to just about communicate with the Queen at this kind of range. Like an array of satellite dishes that Ryus had once heard of.

Okay, so he couldn't return to the Hive without a death wish… and Mother would most likely _call for him_ to return, at some point. He couldn't very well _"run away"_, Mother would become suspicious, and probably send one of her Praetorians to find him. He may have been given various privileges, but any kind of deviation from normal behavior could easily be seen as some sort of danger. Whether the possible cause of the unusual behavior was insanity, a disease, or simply a mere distraction, didn't matter. If you started acting weird, you'd be liable to be scrutinized and/or executed. Couldn't have any "weak-links" in the massive chain that is the Hive, after all. This is where his _problem_ shows up. If he couldn't run away to some other human city or something, and if he couldn't return to the Hive, then… he was stuck between a rock and hard place.

Ryus growled at the corpse as if it had just insulted him.

_So, I can't run away, and I can't go back to the Hive anymore… where does that leave me?_, he asked himself…

As he looked upwards in realization, he was almost certain he would have gone pale.

He would have to leave the planet.

It was his only chance of survival, now.

How exactly he would _do so_ was beyond him, but… he slowly started nodding at the thought that it could work. All he'd have to do was keep away from the Hive and make excuses to Mother until he found a way to get the fuck off of Guardian-625!

The thought of deserting the Hive and literally leaving his home-world behind didn't really sadden him as much as he thought it would. The thought that he would have to leave Mother was… almost negligible. His brow would have furrowed in distaste at his own apathy about this situation. He also seemed to recover from his panic attack from earlier rather quickly, too… but… he knew where his carelessness regarding the Hive came from… but that's a story for another day.

Ryus stood up on all fours, confident that, while he didn't have a _plan_, he had an _objective_. He then hissed as he remembered about what he was to do with… _her_. He oriented his head in the direction of the human female, causing the _Ancestral_ to jump into action, reminding him to kill her. And causing the _Unknown_ to swell with happiness at the sight of the girl. That was just the problem… the fact that attempting to kill this girl had caused him to have a seizure and sprout a second influence in his head was… strange.

Wow… Ryus never believed he would ever be in any situation that required him to think something like that…

Ryus padded over to her, now sleeping form, and stared at her, mulling over what he should do.

His immediate gut reaction was to crack her skull open, born from the automatic kick of his instincts. But rationality dictated that he couldn't do that, for fear of him having a second spasmic "episode" in his attempt. Not to mention how the _Unknown_ had reacted to the, now dead, Soldier trying to kill her. Oh, yes. Ryus had no doubt that it was the _Unknown_ that had caused him to lose his control. Who else _could_ it be? Well… in this case "what". So, his next thought was to just leave her there to die - seeing as though he couldn't do it with his own hands - and tell Mother that the human perished upon its fall. The _Unknown_ instantly protested this.

Not wanting the fuckin' thing to give him a frickin' heart attack, Ryus scrapped that idea. Well. It seemed "it" didn't like the notion of Ryus causing her death by inactivity, either.

Ryus shook his head, growling. This was getting more complicated by the second…

He didn't like the fact that this human had somehow caused him to be mentally affected like it had; the _Unknown's_ appearance was no doubt caused by Ryus's attempt to kill her. He also really didn't like the fact that the_ Unknown_ was somehow powerful enough to wrestle his self-control away from him. Ryus _guessed_ that it was due to the fact that the _Unknown_ was a completely new influence on him, and Ryus hadn't yet figured out exactly "how" to deal with it. He was able to beat the _Ancestral_ into submission because the _Ancestral_ had simply been around for a very long time.

Both facts made him feel extremely uncomfortable and anxious. Scared of what's in your own mind… well, shit. But, another thought occurred to him. What exactly was so _special_ about this girl, for him to have a seizure, develop a second mental influence, and cause him to kill his Hive-mate? What could possibly be so different about her that all of this would happen? _Least_ of all, to _him_. Ryus then shivered at the reasoning that this girl must have been… really fuckin' important for some reason.

But wait. According to the fact that the _Ancestral_ hadn't pushed him to _do_ anything upon the appearance of the _Unknown_ would indicate that… this was the first time anything like this had happened! After all, that was the reason that the _Ancestral Instincts_ were there. To guide any of his kind through any kind of unusual situation, by pushing the individual with an "urge" or something of the like.

Ryus felt his esophagus clench shut.

If he'd never seen this human before… then there must be _something_ about her that really demanded study in order to understand something… undoubtedly something important about _himself_. What exactly could be gleaned from this was beyond him. But, what Ryus did know so far, was that she was undoubtedly "linked" to him in some way. How else could it be explained if he was the first to have this happen to him?

His acidic blood ran cold as he realized that she- this human was _literally_ **the** only good thing that he had going for him. With him, practically, no longer a part of the Hive, and his only agenda being to get the Hell out of dodge… she was his only asset. Plus, if he could learn what exactly made her linked to him… the possible benefits were unknowable in both quality_ and_ quantity!

This epiphany caused him to snarl quietly. He _had_ to know _why_ she was so special. He had to know "why", dammit! Ryus was adamant in the assumption that this was important… possibly to _both_ of them.

_So… what do I_ do_ with her then_, he wondered.

This made his situation even _more_ complicated.

In order to investigate this whole "Unknown-human girl" phenomenon, he would obviously have to keep her _with him_. He scoffed at the sensation of the _Unknown_ pulsing with elation at the idea. But how would that even _work_? She would obviously try to run away at the first opportunity from him. His species _was_ pretty much the "Black Plague on steroids" to humans. And how would he keep the Hive off of his back when he had a human girl... _prey_ with him? Investigating why the girl was linked to him once they were both off planet shouldn't be a problem. It wasn't the first time he had to test or experiment. Again, story for another day.

He began pacing again, around the human in question's sleeping form- who happened to snore slightly from time to time. Not nearly as erratically as he had been pacing before, but with calm, slow, quiet steps.

Ryus pondered how these problems could be avoided or solved. Well, the Hive_ was_ practically fighting a bloody _war_ against the humans; the "Colonial Marines", as they called themselves. So Mother would most likely have her hands full, busy directing the Soldiers, Workers, Sentries, Rangers, and maybe, the Praetorians to keep the humans from destroying their species entirely. And would not check on him for a while, thus, he could find an area where the Hive's patrols seldom went, and hide the girl there until he could find a way off of GD-625.

As he thought this, an idea for a decent hiding spot popped into his head.

_The apartments..._, he thought, slowly. The human dwellings that he knew as "apartments" would be ideal. Since Mother had apparently gone there first while she was still a Worker, she had already captured Hosts from there long ago. Before the Hive had even started. She had once told him, upon being asked, that those human dwellings had already been seldom populated at the time, thus she had cleared them out. Ryus felt a small pang of pride for his Queen, at the thought of her capturing over 40 Hosts all by her lonesome, as a _Worker_, no less!

He shook his head, getting back on track.

When Ryus had heard that those apartments were strictly abandoned, he suggested taking all patrols away from that area. His reasoning being that the humans wouldn't be stupid enough to go there where the Hive could easily find them, and that they needed all the Soldiers they could get to keep up the fight against the human's military elsewhere. Not to waste on useless patrols.

It had taken Mother about half an hour to say "okay", no doubt due to her instincts dictating that they had to patrol _**"EVERYWHERE"**_, but Ryus knew that logic would always triumph.

The apartment section of the human colony was also slightly further away from the Hive. Ryus _should_ still be able to communicate with Mother from there. He didn't want her to become suspicious at his absence from the Hive-mind.

_Okay, hide the girl within the apartment complex until I find a way off planet_, he thought, adding that to the list of shit he had to get done.

As for the human's inevitable distrust of him… he supposed he should hope to get lucky. Trust is easy to lose, yet hard to earn.

Alright… Ryus had a plan… okay, well, not exactly a "plan", more like "stuff that needs doing".

Ryus stopped pacing and padded over to sit near the girl's head. He seemed to ponder for a moment, then rose onto his hind legs. He'd need to get her out from under that rubble.

A large metal plate of flooring lay on the humans chest, being further weighed down by the ends of a few steel girders, and some broken off slabs of concrete from the room's ceiling. He looked up and snarled at the sight of the blue-ish light from the hole getting dimmer.

Ryus knew that the light was coming from a window in the hallway above, so it must have been getting dark. While not a problem for him, it wouldn't make the girl any safer with the Hive's Soldiers being more active at night. His kind were naturally nocturnal, but could put off sleep for some time should they need to be awake during the day. Having more of his kind's Soldiers around definitely wasn't going to give the human much of a chance-

He shook his head, stopping that train of thought. He had to stop thinking like that, self-doubt would only make his situation worse. _Worse… yeah, being a fugitive to my entire species, on the run, and concealing a human can get worse?,_ he asked himself bitterly... apparently so.

He moved his right leg forward to brace himself, clutching the end of one of the girders with both hands. It momentarily hit him just how insane this whole thing had become… and just how likely _he_ was to be crazy. Okay, he had to get those things out of his head and focus! Ryus hissed quietly as a small strain ached through his arm muscles as he lifted a girder about a foot off of the nearly crushed human… and nearly dropped it as he heard as sudden _"Ryus?"_, in his head.

_Shite! Mum!_, he thought in momentary panic. He was panting from the sudden scare, so he took a moment to calm down and collect his thoughts. _Just stay calm, she can't read your thoughts, just… just reply_, he told himself.

_"Yeah?"_, he replied, completely casually. He silently thanked the fact that he could manipulate his mental voice in order to contradict the nervousness he was feeling.

A wholesome, warming presence filled his mind after he had answered Mother, essentially "picking up the phone" in telepathic terms, considering he was about a kilometer away from her.

_"Ryus, I've just felt a Soldier disappear from my senses, somewhere near your position. Can you tell me what happened?"_, Mother asked. Ryus would've mentally chuckled at the monotone, almost robotic, yet feminine voice she had, mostly because she almost barely used English.

* * *

Despite that she found both the human language, and the unique naming of individuals to be pointless, considering their kind have no need for either of them, she still spoke to her child in the language he had taught her, and referred to him by the name he had given himself. She might as well use it for_ something_. Plus, calling her favorite reconnaissance worker "Ryus" seemed to be somehow… more _personal_ than simply referring to him as "Scout", or "child". The young Queen didn't know what exactly to call this feeling, it was apparently completely knew to both her and the _Ancestral_, but she didn't mind. As long as it didn't impair her abilities, she was fine with it.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ryus felt himself freeze solid. She's talking about_ that_ guy! He briefly glanced at the corpse of the Soldier- the reason why he had to leave Guardian. The body was slowly slipping into the small hole created by the pooling acidic blood. Creating "hiss" sounds, and wisps of corrosive smoke.

He nonetheless, answered immediately, _"oh, yes, a real shame that is, I had just killed that human female that you told me to find, when I noticed a human 'Smartgunner' nearby. I was about to decapitate the human from behind, but the Soldier that you felt the disappearance of engaged the human head on"_, he explained in a truly sorrow sounding voice.

_"Smartgunner?"_, she questioned, forgetting what he was referring to. Ryus relayed a mental image from the memory of the time that he had encountered a Smartgunner himself.

He felt distaste, contempt, and hate pulse from his Queen as she was reminded of what the word "Smartgunner" entailed. A heavy set human with bulky armor, a glass square in front of one of it's eyes, while it wielded an extremely large, heavy machinegun, known for tracking it's targets. Not that she actually took the time to remember what exactly any of that _meant_\- all _she_ knew was that they were dangerous.

Ryus then felt a wave of, honest-to-God, grief flow from his Queen, to him. Despite what many humans might think, the Queens of his species _always_ experienced sadness for the loss of any of their children. It _is_ a mother to son/daughter relationship, after all.

_"That is unfortunate, he was quiet young as I understand?"_, she asked with what sounded like a small pang of sadness in her tone, although, not much.

_"Yes, judging from the pattern of his head, he couldn't have been more than two month's old"_, Ryus confirmed.

_"Month?"_, she asked. _"30-31 days"_, he replied, a bit irritated, even though it couldn't be helped.

She was about to say something else, when her presence partially left Ryus's mind.

_Hmm… probably one of the Rangers falling asleep again_, Ryus thought, chuckling inwardly. It wasn't uncommon for the Rangers of their Hive to be posted on guard of one of the Hive's entrances for days on end, sometimes a week or two. It usually resulted in one or two Rangers "falling asleep on the job", despite their best efforts not to. It might've been funny, if it weren't for the immediate and unemotional response of said Rangers being told to eat and rest upon this happening. And the utterly ill-humored reaction that these Rangers always display because of it.

Ryus shook his head at the ground, slowly- he was probably the only one in the Hive who had a sense of humor… or even_ understood_ humor, in the first place.

Ryus waited for his Queen, still holding the girder above the unconscious human.

Finally, after a minute, Mother came back to Ryus, the same warm presence wholly filling his mind. _"Return to the Hive"_, she said.

Ryus's lips pulled back in a wince, _"actually, Mum, I think I may have found something of interest around here, I think I'll stick around for a bit"_, he said.

* * *

The young Queen wasn't surprised, it was expected for Ryus to occasionally run off somewhere in his so-called "studies". She found it slightly odd that Ryus had decided not to return, as he'd normally want to. But, then again, he _had_ completed his task, _and_ answered her questions, so he could do as he wanted as far as she was concerned. Plus, it had _never_ proven any kind of hindrance with his occasional "excursions", as he'd also called them.

* * *

_"Very well"_, Mother said, leaving the line of communication silent, the warming presence fleeing from Ryus's mind.

_Oh, thank God_, he thought to himself in relief, as he slumped a bit. He may not have ever really investigated the human religion, but that didn't mean the phrase was any less accurate to express his relief.

He waited a moment, gathering his thoughts, then tossed the girder he had been holding off to his right with a loud "clang".

After removing the debris from the human girl, he gently draped her unconscious body over his back and shoulder. The _Ancestral_ insisting in the elimination of the girl, and the _Unknown_ seemingly ecstatic at Ryus's plan of taking her with him, commencing.

He didn't take notice of either of them, as he climbed up the walls, and across the ceiling of the storage room, to crawl out of the hole made by the girl's drop. Careful not to drop the human he needed from his grip on her arm, and not to cause any further collapse of the structure.

He knew this complex like the back of his clawed hand. Getting to the apartments wouldn't be a problem.

With the human lying on his back, he set off on the first leg of his, no doubt, _insane_ agenda.

* * *

**If you're wondering why all of that "head carving" business about the Warrior in this chapter was important, it's because this Warrior is meant to look like the "Warrior" Alien skin in AVP (2010). I'm trying to support the theory that, with age, a Xenomorphs' carapace changes. When a Warrior is under a week old, they'll be nearly indistinguishable from a Done. At under two months old, they'll have the appearance of a Warrior from AVP (2010). When they ****reach three months of age, they'll adopt the appearance of the Warriors from "Aliens", with the small spines running down the length of their skulls. And after reaching six months, they begin to look like "Carved Warriors" from AVP: Requiem, or the "Ridged" skin from AVP (2010).**

**In regards to this chapter in general, however… I believe that excrement has _officially_ struck the air conditioning unit...**

**…shit's hit the fan.**


	5. Chapter 4: And So It Begins

**(REWRITTEN VERSION).**

**Anyone ever get that thing where whenever you're bored, or you're listening to a song, you start imagining a movie trailer for the book you're writing? 'Cause I get that all the time.**

* * *

**Chapter 4: And So It Begins…**

When Samantha woke up, she didn't open her eyes right away. Partly because of her splitting headache, but mostly because she didn't feel… the same.

She didn't feel the cold pricking at her skin. Nor the soreness of her throat, making her want to cough. The wet blood that dripped down her scalp had dried. But what caught her attention was that she didn't feel the weight of the debris pressing down on her, the feeling of air being crushed out of your lungs. She could take a breath and not feel like going into a hacking fit. Her arm still felt partially dislocated, which made a slightly numb ache pulse in her shoulder every few seconds. And she felt as if she was lying on something… soft, almost like a… mattress.

_Wait…._

Samantha cracked open her eyes only to clamp them shut when her forehead's throbbing flared up, causing her eyes to water, slightly. Already getting sick of barely being able to move the fingers in her dislocated limb, Samantha lazily reached over with her other arm to grip the upper arm of the defective appendage and fully clip the bone back into her shoulder socket with a painful sounding *snap*. She barely groaned at the uncomfortable, yet relieving pain that came with fully reconnecting a limb to the spinal cord. After all, she was an athlete- she was _trained_ to deal with injuries like these. For a short while she lay there, rubbing her restored arm back into a comfortable state. She then stretched her arm, and rolled her shoulder to test it. A burst of maddening pain erupting in her forehead stopped her from celebrating the knowledge that her arm appeared to be fine. On impulse, she reached up with both hands to rub the sleep out of her eyes, then to massage her forehead and the bridge of her nose to stop the aching.

_Hey, wait… I can_ actually_ move my arms! I couldn't, before!_, she realized.

Suddenly remembering how her leg had felt like it was on fire, and wanting to verify the severity of the injury, she pulled her left leg up to get into a sitting position, but grunted and let it fall when her leg suddenly felt as if it was lit aflame. _Well, good to see_ that's_ still there_. She pushed with her hands to sit up, opening her eyes to look down and saw that her leg was black, blue, and swollen. She reached down to try touching it, and pulled back when it felt like her fingertips had turned into lit cigars.

She frowned. _Damn. A muscle must be torn. I'm not going anywhere with this leg. Especially not with those bruises, either_. _Though, judging by how I can still feel my toes, it shouldn't be _too_ severe_.

That's when she noticed that she was _definitely_ not where she remembered being.

She sat on a king sized-bed with blue and beige covers, and wooden head, and foot panels. In a medium sized bedroom comprised of eggshell colored walls, white borders, and navy blue carpet. A chest-high mahogany wardrobe sat against the left wall. A small bedside table with a yellow parchment lamp on it was to her right. And to the right of _that_ was a white door that faced the bed and, presumably, lead to the bathroom. An oil painting of a river in a forest during autumn, with a gold border, hung on the wall next to the door. _Another_ door, presumably the exit, was right in front of the bed. The room was bathed in a golden light from a single, round light bulb, stuck to the ceiling.

This apartment was clearly meant to feel like a hotel room on Earth, and Samantha supposed that _here_ would be as good a place as _any_ to wake up without knowing how you got there.

The last thing she remembered was a… Xeno… a Warrior about to kill her, so she understandably pondered if she had died and if this wasHeaven.

Hm, no, if this was H_eaven_, then her left leg wouldn't be burning like _Hell_.

_So… how did I get here?_, she wondered, her brow furrowing.

* * *

It had taken Ryus half an hour to find the nearest apartment, and on the way he'd run past a pair of Rangers that were making their patrols. Luckily, they must have thought he was taking the human to the Hive Egg Chambers, because they paid him little mind. Upon entering the room he was in now, he left the human girl in the only bedroom, coated all of the vents in Hive Resin to prevent any entry through those, and had spent the past five minutes rooting around in the kitchen for food.

She'd probably be hungry. Despite the necessity, Ryus _still_ felt like a complete _fool_ as he was, somewhat clumsily, rooting around in the dwelling's cupboards; scrounging about for the slightest sign of human food. Like some sort of mentally inept thief who either couldn't find a better target of dwelling, or just couldn't tell where any money might be.

As he was about to give up out of frustration, seeing as though the previous residents had seemingly taken everything with them, he heard an echo-y, feminine voice.

_So… how did I get here?_

He turned around to see through the kitchen and bedroom wall, that the flashing of the human's diaphragm, lungs and heart had picked up from their previous "sleeping" rhythm.

_Ah… she's awake… wonderful_, he thought, shifting on his feet as he was struck by a sudden pang of nervousness.

He had been vaguely aware of a small ringing in his head for the past 45 seconds, but just now it had disappeared. His mind had synced up to her brainwave pattern. It had only been through an absurd amount of trial, error, and practice, in an absurdly small amount of time that Ryus had come to be able to _hear_ the thoughts of humans… and even _more _astonishing time-management on his part to be able to _communicate_ with them. Because he was the only one of his kind to even try, he was the only one to achieve this. Something that had benefitted him greatly.

Needless to say, it had, and probably _will_, create some very odd situations. In reality, the human was "broadcasting" about 20 different thoughts every second, it's just that Ryus could pick out the most prominent one(s).

He… supposed that he should go and, uh… check on her. She _would_ be seeing a lot more of him from now on.

Shaking his head, Ryus dropped to all fours and padded out of the kitchen, through the living room, and stopped in front of the bedroom door.

The _Unknown_ wanted to run inside to greet her, the _Ancestral_ demanded her be slain- both would be bad ideas. And Ryus? Strangely he felt the need to leave her alone. He was dreading how this would end up, really. He felt himself growl nervously at how she might react to him. But he knew that if he were to make any progress at all in sorting out this entire "human girl-Unknown" phenomenon, he'd have to start _somewhere_.

Even _if_ it meant starting with a bad first impression.

He rose up onto his hind legs, closed a clawed hand around the copper handle, and opened the door…

* * *

Samantha jumped when the door in front of her creaked and started to open. She had been thinking that she might have been saved by somebody… but…

When the door opened to reveal a Xenomorph standing there… for a moment that seemed like an eternity all she could do was stare blankly at it. Not believing her eyes. Her mind just… couldn't begin to function… it wasn't so much "shock" as it was "… the hell?"… she couldn't even begin to make sense of it… not that it made any sense, anyway.

And then, like a warning that came too late, the voice of reason chose to intervene._ "FUCKING _RUN_ YOU NUMBSKULL!"_.

In an instant she leapt off of the bed and to her right, yelping as she felt her left leg burn, and completely collapsing while doing so, resulting in her landing facedown on the carpet. Subconsciously knowing that that was the _least_ of her problems, she ignored the pain shooting up through her shin and scrambled frantically with her remaining right leg and arms to the bathroom door with a speed that could only come from desperation. She did _not_ want to die like this.

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! Hell_ fucking_ no! Not after surviving what _I've_ been through! Not after everything that had to be done!_

Her thoughts only acted as a handful of thermite being added to the mix of the muscle-burning adrenaline that was slamming through her veins and making it feel like 200 degrees (celsius) inside her own skin. With what felt like minimal effort, Samantha pushed up with her arms, "jumping" while she was still prone, and yanked down the door handle to her nearest escape route, swung it open as best she could while being supported on only her right knee, and practically dove into the bathroom. Running completely on instinct and adrenaline, she scrambled to the closed cubicle shower in the far corner, ignoring how the cold tile floor scraped against her knee, leg, and elbows.

Samantha, in her all seeing wisdom, yanked open the glass door into the shower, before diving inside the marble box, and closed the glass panel behind her once she was inside the small, marble stall, gasping, and pushing back against the wall with her right leg. She instantly realized she was now trapped. That Xenomorph could now just waltz inside, cave in her skull with it's inner jaws, and leave. And she could do nothing about it.

Despite her hyperventilating, and panicked state of fight or flight… she felt her throat start to close up, her cheeks begin to burn, and her eyes watering, as, for the first time in 5 months began to feel the urge to cry welling up from within. And she had every _right_ to cry, anyway. She was going to die an undoubtedly painful death in less than a minute, and she had brought about her demise even faster by trapping herself in this shower cubicle because she wasn't thinking straight!

Not that she could have escaped either way.

Before she could contain it, quiet, coughing sobs wracked her body, and echoed inside the bathroom, accompanied with tears, forcing her eyes to clamp shut.

_I'm such a fucking idiot! None of this would have happened if I hadn't forgotten to SEAL THE GOD-DAMMNED FUCKING AIR LOCK! WHY!? Why do I have to die now when everything was going SO well!? Why did ANY of this have to happen!? Why did I have to become a murderer because if all this!? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE ONE OF THE WORST FATES IMAGINABLE!? Why!?_

She curled in on herself up into the corner of the shower, sobbing, knowing that, if she was going to breakdown and cry at some point, it may as well be now.

* * *

Ryus… felt sick.

He had expected the female to be afraid, maybe even angry, but… not to _this_ extent!

Before he could do _anything_, the female shot straight off of the bed with surprising speed, and scrambled up to, and _through_ the door next to the bed. That told Ryus two things. 1: She was scared enough to completely disregard the injury in her left leg, and 2: she had the will to at least _try_ to get away while other humans would have simply waited for their demise.

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO! Hell _fucking_ no! Not after surviving what I've been through! Not after everything that had to be done!_

_'Had to be done'? What could she mean by that?_, he wondered. He had tried to discern any of her other, minor thoughts, but the adrenaline in her system was mucking up the "reception". He didn't know why she had gone into the _bathroom_, where he could have easily went in and had her trapped, but at least she was strong enough to move, and therefore, strong enough to heal from her injury.

The sound of her pulse was almost deafening (if Ryus had any ears), and he might have gone blind too (or eyes) from how brightly the electric energy in her heart was flashing. Boy, she was… really afraid; though, that's nothing new to him. Ryus, dropped to all fours and stalked around the corner of the bed and over to the doorway. He paused as he was almost forced to recoil from a myriad of scents slamming into him. An absurdly strong odor of stress, fear, anguish, and sadness made its way through the gaps in the straps of muscle that made up his "cheeks", and into his Piston Jaw to meet his smell receptors.

And what was even more stalling was the sound of… _crying_? He had heard it many times from the Hosts that had been about to die from the birthing of one of his Hive-mates. To hear it come from _this_ female, the one who had kept it together the first time she'd seen him was… concerning.

_I'm such a fucking idiot! None of this would have happened if I hadn't forgotten to SEAL THE GOD DAMMNED FUCKING AIR LOCK! WHY!? Why do I have to die now when everything was going SO well!? Why did ANY of this have to happen!? Why did I have to become a murderer because if all this!? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE ONE OF THE WORST FATES IMAGINABLE!? Why!?_ The voice was pained with emotional anguish, and one could tell that she'd scream it from the rooftops if she could.

_Murderer?_, Ryus was… surprised. Everything else in those thoughts would require future inquiry, but it was that "murderer" part that had caught him. Ryus oriented his head to the side, seeming to think for a second, then looked back up and slowly padded into the room. At one time he'd have been too shocked at the amount of emotional pain caused because of him to move, but now it only served to make the right side of his lips crack open in a grimace.

It also solidified how and why his life taken a drastic turn only two and a half months ago.

More on that later.

The Unknown pulsed with sympathy and a desire to help, while the Ancestral only swelled with contempt. Ryus moved over to the shower; where the distressed human had holed up.

* * *

When she heard the small scrapes of claws on ceramic tile flooring, she didn't bother to stop crying or to be quiet. _It_ wouldn't know what "sobbing" meant, or even _was_, anyway. When the scraping fell silent, she reluctantly opened her eyes to see the Xeno standing on all fours in front of the cubicle. The lower half of its body was hidden behind the wall she was curled up against and it was staring at her. She closed her eyes again, and pressed her forehead against the marble wall, still sobbing, waiting for the thing to smash it's way through the glass and kill her.

But nothing came. She had peeked at it from the corner of her eye multiple times to see that it still hadn't moved. As if… waiting for something. It stood there for so long that eventually, the tears dried up, and some of her emotional turmoil was replaced by fear and morbid curiosity. She glared at the Xeno, which seemed to shift on its feet nervously, as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with her arm.

_What the Hell are_ you _looking at?_, she thought, scowling.

_Just get it over with_, she looked downwards, angrily.

The Xenomorph seemed to pivot slowly in response, bringing the rest of it's body in full view. Her eyes darted up to look, then shifted downwards again. She thought nothing of it. It then sat down on its back legs, like a dog or cat, which forced Samantha to stare at the creature's odd behavior. She'd never seen any Xeno do that. And she doubted one of them _would_ do so while a human's in their presence.

_What are you up to, Xeno?_, she thought, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

* * *

Ryus had waited patiently for her to calm down as she slowly stopped crying. It had been a few minutes before her sobs turned into sniffs, and her scent turned slightly aggressive. _What the hell are_ you _looking at?_ Well, if she was going to be offended by him simply _watching_ her, then this really wasn't going to go very smoothly.

_You_, he pretended to reply, a bit cheekily in his head, shifting on his feet.

She then became angry for some unknown reason, as many of her kind did in these kinds of situations. _Just get it over with_.

_Mmm- nah, I think I'll keep you around_, he "replied" thinking, smarmily, as he moved to stand facing in front of the glass panel separating him from the human.

_What are you up to, Xeno?_ He heard her think when he had sat down in front of the glass door. Her mental voice was thick with suspicion and hate. Although he couldn't actually "see through" the glass, his echolocation still reached over and on the other side of it through the gap between its edge and the ceiling. Plus, his electro-reception still easily allowed him to see her skeleton lighting up, so... yeah.

_'Xeno'? How do I_ still_ not know what that means?_, he asked himself. He had heard _that_ word and 'Xenomorph' from the thoughts of many humans. But had never known what it really meant. It was obviously the name that the humans had given his species. And since he wasn't sure of whether or not it was derogatory term, or something, he hadn't bothered finding out.

He waited for another few minutes, as she stared at him; paranoia waving off of her, and she fidgeted in her spot.

When things had seemingly calmed down, Ryus decided to lift his tail, causing the female to jump and fix her gaze on it. He moved it forward and wedged the tip of his tail blade into the gap of the glass door. He pushed the glass all the way open with the flat of his tail blade and tentatively pulled his tail back from the door; seeing if it would swing shut. When it showed that it would stay open on its own, he returned his tail back to its original position, and ever so slowly stood up.

She shifted again, and the smell of fear coming from her intensified.

He didn't like that he was making her skittish, but he had to assess just where the "boundaries" would be with her.

* * *

Samantha, despite_ knowing_ that the Xenomorph would kill her, still felt fear strangle around her throat, and shifted a bit where she sat on the marble floor. The shower cubicle itself was only 5-feet by 5-feet, so the Xenomorph could take 2 steps to be within range to tear out her throat. She had thought that there being no escape would make her at peace with her fate, but all it seemed to do was make her feel trapped and anxious.

The Xeno seemed to be deliberately slow in its actions, almost as if it wanted her to die from suspense. It lifted its left clawed hand, leaned forward, and placed it on the raised step that suspended the glass panels' frame. It tilted its head, and she made a small, nervous moan, her eyes widening. It lifted its other hand, and placed it a bit closer. She whimpered. The sound of her beating heart was so loud in her ears, that she didn't hear the Xeno make a small whining noise.

As the Xenomorph brought about half of its body using one of its back legs into the cubicle, she began hyperventilating.

And when it was about to move its other hind leg… her fight or flight impulse must have kicked in before she could think because, at the same time, it's lips had pulled back, revealing its teeth and… well…

Her right leg snapped upward and her boot slammed into it's muzzle.

* * *

Ryus had just been taking a breathe by baring his teeth for a _split_ _fucking_ second, and he had heard very vague and primal thoughts of "kick" and "survive" come from the female, when the girl's heavily clad rubber boot had connected with his teeth. His skull had instantly snapped backward (making him immensely thankful that he was immune to "whiplash") as he screeched loudly- his hind legs pushing against the stone step that made up part of the cubicle on impulse, launching him out of the shower stall. Landing about 7 feet from the shower, straight onto his back.

The glass door had slammed shut from his tail knocking into it, making the female jump, again. Immediately scrambling upright, Ryus had to take a minute after sitting up; gripping his head with both hands, because the amount of survival instincts that fired off from the_ Ancestral_ en masse made his head spin, and it took all of his will power not to jam his claws into the human's throat. _Which_ conflicted with the feelings of hurt and submission pulsing from the _Unknown_. Once both impulses eventually subsided, he shook his head with a growl. Okay… so _that's_ where the boundaries were.

_Wow… that really fuckin' hurt_, he thought ruefully, as a clawed hand clapped against his bared teeth.

Alright, he'd have to avoid _breathing_ in front of her- chances were, she mistook it for a sign of aggression… fantastic. Although he _could_ try just breathing with his mouth closed, and through the gaps in his "cheeks"… even if it _was_ equivalent for a human to try breathing with a plug in one nostril, and the other stuffed with mucus.

He then realized something.

_Hey, wait… that_ actually_ fuckin' hurt!_, he thought in astonishment. As if to prove his point, he felt something wet drip onto the inside of his lower jaw. Though it was his Piston Jaw that he "swallowed" with, since it was an extension of his esophagus, he still had taste buds on the roof and "floor" of his mouth. And he tasted the acrid, burning of blood… well, _his_ kind's blood. He kept his maw and lips shut while whatever was bleeding slowly stopped dripping with acid. Then he padded over to the back, left corner of the room (the corner parallel to the shower cubicle), and allowed the accumulated blood to spill onto the floor there. Creating a green-yellow-brown hole in the tile-work, which got bigger with every passing second.

(He thought had heard her think something, but he dismissed it for the moment).

Then he went back over in front of the shower door, and started picking in between each of his teeth. He stopped when his claw went through the space that one of his molars; just behind his upper right canine, used to be in.

A brief infrasonic chirp caused him to orient his head to the floor tile right behind him.

His tooth…

_That's… _actually_ amazing_, he thought in disbelief, picking up the tooth with two claws. Very _few_ humans, even the ones that were supposedly their best warriors, actually used their legs to attack- and even _less_ managed to cause an injury to one of his kind doing so! He threw his missing tooth over his shoulder and made another infrasound chirp, orienting his head at the human in the shower cubicle.

Her shirt had lifted up a bit, revealing part of her abdomen, and what his echolocation picked up made him release a second chirp, at a higher frequency for a sharper image, just to make sure he wasn't "seeing" things.

Muscles…

A "four pack" to be precise…

They certainly weren't as "pronounced" as the ones he'd seen on some of the male human Marines, yet… they were _definitely_ there!

After seeing countless female Hosts within the Hive, who had all possessed the muscle mass of a bird hatchling, this was_ truly_ an oddity!

_Holy crap… she really_ is _a tough mother fucker!_, he thought, impressed. Confirming his earlier thought from when he had first found her.

* * *

When the Xenomorph had disappeared off to the right, Samantha had her hand over her mouth in shock at what she had just done. She'd probably enraged it! _Oh, shit! It's probably_ really_ pissed off! Oh god, it's gonna tear me apart limb from limb!_, she thought, panting. At least _before_ it seemed like it was going to make her death quick, but now that she had injured it, that could very well change!

She had squeaked in dread when it found a missing tooth on the floor.

It brought the tooth up to its head, examining it, then… threw it over its shoulder and out of sight.

She stared in pure confusion when the creature only glanced at her, then padded out of sight, itself. And… Out. The. Door…

_Uh… what?_

She blinked as her mind pondered over how… calm the Xeno seemed to be acting...

* * *

After leaving the bathroom, Ryus believing that that was as far as they'd get in terms of interaction today, he hopped onto the bed and glanced about the room. He had to leave in order to find some food for the girl- she would have to keep her energy up if she were to keep up with him in the Hive's territory.

And perhaps a food offering would gain some trust from her…

But he couldn't leave without keeping her here, somehow. She'd no doubt escape as soon as he turned his back, and as much as constraining against someone's free will disturbed him, he couldn't let that happen. He internally frowned as he considered his options. He couldn't just lock the doors, she'd just _un_lock them and leave. And she'd probably just kick down any Hive Resin he secreted, like how she'd "kicked down" his tooth...

Nevertheless, he would have grinned devilishly as a new, more plausible idea dawned on him…

* * *

Samantha frowned as she heard the sound of something heavy scraping across carpet come from the bedroom. And when she heard the sound of the Xenomorphs' feet running, and felt it through the floor, slowly fade out of ear shot, her frown deepened.

_What the Hell?_, she thought, her eyebrow raising.

After half an hour of waiting for a sound of any kind, and being greeted with silence, she finally decided to chance it. Samantha, with her leg still seemingly lathered in flames, used the marble walls of the bathroom to get up and out of the shower; trudging over to peek into the bedroom, ignoring the acrid stench of Xeno blood from the hole in the corner.

Nothing. Except for the door being closed.

Her face lit up with hope as she half ran to the door.

She yanked down the handle- and it's not budging. She was confused, but realized that the Xenomorph had somehow locked the door. With a cocky smirk thinking "clever, but not clever enough", she _un_locked the door and tried the handle again. It worked that time.

She then pushed the door open… and frowned when_ it_ didn't budge either. She shoved against it with her shoulder, but it wouldn't move.

She went pale and realized that there was only a rectangular "footprint" in the carpet where the mahogany wardrobe used to be…

Damn…

_… the fuckin' thing barricaded the door!_

* * *

**For those of you who will undoubtedly get in an incoherent hissy fit about Runners supposedly being able to read a human's thoughts, and communicate with them. Allow me to direct your attention to the extended version of Alien 3.**

**In the extended version of the film, the Runner Alien (which had spawned from an oxen) had been trapped inside radiation proof vault with no escape.**

**To make sure that the film didn't end up being an hour and a half long, one of the characters, Gollic (I think was his name), who had supposedly revered the Runner - calling it a "dragon" - suddenly got it into his head to kill the guy watching over him, and freed the Alien.**

**Fans of the film (including me) came to the conclusion that the Runner had the ability to influence Gollic's (and other human's) thoughts and perceptions. I took it one step further by theorizing that the Runner's power comes from it's increased telepathic "skill", which it gets from it's greater need to communicate with the Queen.**

**Granted, Gollic _was_ a complete nutter, but wouldn't that have made his mind more vulnerable to the Runner's empathic ability?**


	6. Chapter 5: Transitions

**(REWRITTEN VERSION).**

**Anyone ever get that thing where, when you're working on a chapter of your book, you can't stay focused because all you can think about is a future, better chapter?**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Transitions**

After Ryus had locked and blockaded the bedroom door using that surprisingly heavy wardrobe, then locked the door to the apartment itself, he had went trotting down the hallways of the apartment section of the complex. The _Ancestral_ pushed even harder to not leave the girl alive, and the _Unknown_ seemed to long for her presence. He hadn't had much hope in finding food inside the dwelling, since the humans that had left it had taken most of the food, or it was eaten by his Hive-mates. So his best bet now would be to root around in a grocery store or super market or something. Hopefully his "brethren" had not gone to one of _those_ to _eat_ for the sake of _eating_. He wasn't worried about his "charge" being found by a member of the Hive. Mother had deliberately ordered the abandoned "human dwellings" be strictly avoided for the sake of efficiency. A decision that _Ryus_ had come up with and suggested, but still.

Ryus took a left at an intersection in the plasticrete/carpet hallways. He had once heard from a human Marine's thoughts that these hallways "looked a lot like hotels on Earth". Ryus had not had the time to find out what "hotel" or "Earth" meant, but he assumed they were pleasant things, judging by the Marine's aura of fondness… just before he had to chop to guy's head off to not be caught by Mother. He was doing something with/around a human that didn't involve killing, after all.

If Ryus weren't occupied with trotting and trying to find food for the human female, he might have shivered.

_Will those memories_ ever _go away?_, he had asked himself many, many numerous times.

They only seemed to become more vivid with each kill. At times he'd ask himself why he endured deliberately remembering every time he took a life, and thus tortured himself. If he _gave in_ to the adrenaline rush and instincts that he would become flushed with in each of those moments, then they would have faded away into the fog of his mind as mere glimmers and small flashbacks.

He could forget them.

Like all of his Hive-mates do…

But then he'd remember…_ that_… he'd remember that one Host from 2 and a half months ago…

And now he'd remember the thoughts of the human female from less than 10 minutes ago, too…

They're the reasons he forced himself to endure… to remember…

Ryus shook his head a bit, a small whine squeezing out of his closed jaws. None of that was important anymore. For you see, it had occurred to him that when he left Guardian-625 he wouldn't _have_ to _kill_ anymore- that he could finally do something_ else_ once he left the Hive behind. And perhaps he could do them with that human female, after he figured out what exactly about her had affected him so profoundly earlier- i.e: A seizure and a second mental influence: the _Unknown_. He didn't know, maybe they could end up as "friends".

Ryus hopped over an acid "stain" that had just about dissolved the entire floor of about 5 feet of hallway. He didn't know what kind of human _civilian_ weapon could have caused an injury to one of his kind grievous enough to do that, but he didn't actually care. He took a right at a t-shaped junction, remembering where to go. At the end of that hallway was the door to the outside; it was locked so Ryus had to stand up on his hind legs and kick it down. When a small courtyard was revealed to him, he bared his teeth, taking a breath; smelling the late night air. With a grunt of disinterest he dropped down to all fours and began trotting across the 30 foot wide, grass and cobblestone laden courtyard. Then he felt his skull buzz-

_"Ryus?"_, Mother called, her voice sounding slightly faint.

Ryus almost instantly tripped over his own feet in surprise, shrieking, ending up stumbling into an empty metal trashcan. Both he ended up in a heap.

Ryus growled as he picked himself up, angrily swatting at the garbage receptacle with his tail, sending it sailing across the courtyard to land on the roof of the kilometer-spanning complex. _Why do I get the feeling that that's going to become a regular occurrence?_, he thought ruefully, sitting on his haunches, not looking forward to future communiqué with his mother.

_"Yes, mum?"_, he replied, as if he _hadn't_ just fallen on his arse because of her. The connection became stronger when he answered.

_"You are not where you were last, are you ready to return to the Hive?"_, she asked.

_"Hm? Oh,_ that? _Yeah, no, that was a fluke, it couldn't have been beneficial to the Hive in any way. I've moved on to something to that_ can", he responded flippantly.

_"Strange. You don't usually pursue things that don't look useful for certain…"_, she commented with a small hint of musing in her monotone mental voice.

_"Well, the choices of what to look in to_ are_ narrowing, and the options don't look very enticing"_, he said, faking his rueful tone.

_"Mm"_, she responded in affirmative. _"Are you certain you don't want to return to the Hive?"_, she asked. Ryus didn't know _why_ she was asking. If she wanted to she_ could_ just _order_ him to do so. Or… had he underestimated the level of self-awareness in his Hive-mates and Queen?

_"Trust me mum, this looks important"_, he said, only half lying.

No. He was certain that she was simply asking "why she should _let him_" be away from the Hive, and why he felt he should look into whatever it was he was investigating.

_"Very well"_, she consented.

Ryus passively stood up and continued trotting down the path he was taking.

* * *

The Queen's impressive set of jaws shifted under her exoskeletal crown. Ryus was truly behaving strangely. He had never intentionally been away from the Hive this long. But she supposed that if it _was_ as urgent as he thought, then he _must_ have been attempting to investigate it to the best of his ability.

* * *

Samantha sat down on the bed, panting, running her hands through her hair, and thoroughly peeved at how the Xenomorph had trapped her in the bedroom. She'd spent the last ten minutes trying to knock the door down while spitting out an impressive variety of curses. She'd even thrown the _lamp_ at it out of frustration.

She had been driven by the desire to _not be here_ when the monster came back to get her. And it _would_ come back. She was so adamant in her conviction to be long gone before that thing could have a chance to kill her. It _missed_ its chance to do so_ twice_ now, and a _third_ time would be both unacceptable and unpleasant. But now? She just didn't have the energy to try getting away.

She… guessed that there would be no escape now… the Xenos would finally make her bite the dust and she had no way of avoiding it this time.

Samantha shifted uncomfortably on the bed.

Not knowing what to do, and having her mind fogged by exhaustion, she simply sat and waited for death to come.

…

Well, obviously she got bored of doing that, so she swung her legs onto the mattress, hissing at how her left leg burned even more than it had when she'd first woken up in here. This whole time she'd been hobbling around on her right leg, trying not to put any weight on her left while she was ranting and raving and muckin' about with the door. Needless to say, she'd fallen down a few times. As the burning in her leg died down, she allowed her thoughts to drift.

Unsurprisingly they revolved around her captor.

Instead of dreading how it'll kill her, and how slowly, she reflected on the beast's_ behavior_, oddly enough. The Xenomorph, instead of taking her to the Hive, had dragged her to some random apartment. Which was weird. It also seemed to have no intention of killing her about twelve minutes ago, if the fact that it hadn't hissed or growled at her _once_ meant anything, even though it easily_ could_ have killed her- also _despite_ that she had kicked it in the face. She also recalled how it seemed to have a seizure a little while ago when it attempted to end her life_ then_. Did it_ like_ her for some reason? Was it hoarding her from the rest of the Hive? Or was it simply "saving her for later"? Perhaps "storing" her for future use as a Host or as food? Or could it just be dumb? A mental defect maybe? Rejected from the Hive out of a need for intelligent and efficient members? She couldn't make sense of any of this shit.

She stopped when her thoughts started giving her a headache.

She simply decided to NOT trust it. At all. Distrust was safe. Distrust would make sure taking risks didn't kill her. After all… it's a Xenomorph. The deadliest thing in the galaxy…

* * *

**Two hours later.**

Ryus padded down another empty store aisle. His claws clicking against the smooth ceramic floor. Regrettably, he had been wrong in his hope that food would still be in one of the human shops. He had been searching through different stores, bistros, restaurants, and bars in the human's "Commercial District" for 2 _fucking_ hours! He was in the arduous process of looking around in his fifth convenient store when he began to get ticked.

_Hmphf… "convenient store" my arse… more like "abandoned, rundown, shitty, empty, depressing, fuckoff waste of time"_, he ranted in his head.

Ryus was growling softly, his head hanging low below his shoulders in his peeved state, as he weaved around the end of the aisle on his left and walked down the next, and final one. If he were human, one would compare him to a very miffed looking child, about to throw a temper tantrum. This store, like the rest of them, was locked up, out of power, and empty- before Ryus had shattered a window and smashed through the metal blockade in his way, of course.

He was starting to become anxious to get back to his human (momentarily ignoring the fact that he had just thought of the female as "his"). He'd been gone longer than expected. Could she have gotten the door down, somehow, and moved his improved barricade? He didn't think so. Could she have been found, either by the Hive, or by the Colonial Marines? Not probable. But that didn't stop him from worrying. The _Unknown_ longed to be with her again, an urge that Ryus wouldn't mind placating at the moment. The _Ancestral_ had been deathly silent for a very long time.

Ryus had noticed how it had acted like that the moment he had killed his Hive-mate, the young Soldier. It was almost as if… being a traitor without a Hive made _it_ feel as lost as Ryus was beginning to feel. Being forced to make up your plans as you go along because of complications. Not having a schedule or regime to follow. Not being able to commune with the Queen for instructions.

Hmphf… listen to him, starting to sound almost like a Worker. That was something odd which Ryus could never really make sense of. The Workers (known as "Drones", by humans) of the Hive had always seemed the most… skittish, most reliant on Mother, and the least… "independent" of his former Hive-mates. Ryus had seen stuff like that happen all the time. Whenever a large-scale battle would take place between Marines and the Hive's Soldiers and Rangers, somewhere in the complex, Mother's attention would always be drawn away, to see what is happening through the "eyes" of her children in the fight. And when she isn't focused on the activities of the Hive, the Workers would go without her strong mental presence. At first, for ten minutes at least, they'd all appear to be fine, and get on with their tasks. But even a human would be able to tell that they're nervous. If the engagement elsewhere lasts more than 15 minutes, or so, the Workers begin to get extremely worried. They'd all seem to drop what they're doing and start pacing, running in circles, or some other nervous habit.

This, as it happens, can sometimes result in some chaotic (and sometimes humorous) mishaps. Eventually when Mother turns her attention back to what's happening in her Hive, she would restore order, and get each Worker back to their jobs, as if nothing happened. Ryus didn't know why his Worker counterparts would act in this manner, but… it sometimes seemed as if the Workers are always the first to react poorly whenever something remotely bad happens. He didn't know, maybe they just required more comfort from Mother, or something. Though, he supposed that was why Sentries were always there to "proxy" for Mother, in those situations. Most of the time.

Ryus suddenly found his thoughts interrupted by a smell as he was halfway down the aisle. His head rose as he smelled something… calcium… wheat… fruit. He bounded forward to find the source.

There, at the end of the aisle on the right, bottom shelf, a round plastic package that smelled fake and processed. Cringe worthily horrible. Repugnant.

_Just_ the kind of thing humans like.

He bounded the rest of the short distance, stopping in front of it. He leaned back into a crouch, snatched it up in his claws, and carried it in his mouth as he made his way out of the store, onto a blue/gray metal balcony that wrapped around the building once, before disappearing into the seemingly endless, kilometer-spanning roof that encompassed almost the entire Commercial District.

* * *

Samantha didn't jump when she heard the sound of scraping outside the door, like she'd normally do when a noise startles her. Her brain had practically gone deceased out of boredom for two hours straight. She didn't bother moving from her supine position on the bed to look up when the door opened. If it killed her, it killed her. At this point, death would be a blessing. She felt a weight suddenly press down on the foot of the bed, making it shake, and felt something light be placed on her stomach. She looked down from the ceiling to see a package of dried fruit, eggs, and cheese. She felt the weight on the bed lift, and looked to see the Xenomorph from before walk toward the door. Without fear (at least not very much of it) clouding her reasoning, she could actually observe and study the creature.

It was unlike_ any_ Xeno she'd seen. It wasn't jet black, dark navy blue, _or_ dark gray. It had a bronze-amber color to its entire body. It's dome-like skull seemed to gleam at the right angle, the rest of it's body had a dulled, watered out quality to it. While on all fours it had to be as tall at the shoulder, slightly longer than, and thrice as deadly as a Siberian tiger on Earth. Drawing attention to the fact that it's arms were just as long as it's legs, like a quadruped. It's tail seemed ever so slightly longer than the rest of it's body-_ almost_ disproportionate. While standing on its hind legs it had to be about 7 feet tall, same as a Drone.

Another thing she noticed was it's skin.

Instead of being completely arthropodal and/or chitinous in nature, like all Xenos were, this one seemed to have a mix of both chitin and a leathery-epidermis-esque skin. While the creature was definitely not as bulky as she'd seen on a lot of Warriors, it's armor-clad skin seemed like it was designed for agility, and acrobatics. The next thing she took note of was that… there almost seemed to be visible muscles in it's upper arms and thighs. While it's forearms, shins, and feet were like all other Xenos - skeletal looking, light-weight, yet strong - it's upper arms and thighs looked more… organic, instead of bio-mechanical.

The last thing she noticed was the weapon on the end of it's tail. A Warrior's tail blade is long- 2 _feet_ long, to be precise, slightly curved and made to stab, shank and impale. A Drone's is short, 1 foot, thick, curved, with paddle-like spines near the base of the blade, yet built for the same purpose. Whereas this Xeno's was… odd. It was 2 and a half feet in length, completely straight, like a stiletto knife. Serrated edges, and smooth on both flat sides of it, like an arrowhead. If she had to guess, it would be most effectively used for quick, repeated stabs. Or as some sort of built in "saw blade" or something.

She had momentarily noted with some embarrassment that it completely lacked dorsal tubes, or… _any_ spinal appendage for that matter. That meant it most likely strictly breathed and smelled through its mouth. Meaning that, earlier, she had kicked it because it was_ breathing_. She had kicked it. In the face. Because it was Taking. A breath… wonderful.

Samantha looked down at the food it had apparently brought her and frowned as she looked back up at it. It was shuffling in a tight circle in the doorway, then lied down, wrapping it's tail around it's body, like a dog would do. Seeing the behavior that would immediately denote the concept of "sleep" caused her to look around for a clock. She found one on the bedside table, a digital clock with glowing blue numbers: 11:41 P.M.

It's different appearance, offering of food, and odd behavior didn't help it's "case" in her mind. For all she knew it could be trying to trick her into earning her trust, it could be a rogue from the Hive, or it could have poisoned the food- or_ something_! Xenomorphs can be _very_ devious! When it _suits_ them, at least.

She wouldn't make the mistake of trusting that thing, not for _one_ second, about _anything!_ She tossed the package at the bathroom door, causing it to bounce off of the door and roll under the bed. The Xenomorph momentarily looked up, glancing at the rejected offering, then laying it's head down again. Besides, it had obviously placed itself in the doorway to stop her from getting away. She sat up, against the wooden head panel, crossing her arms, watching it. She wasn't _afraid_ of it anymore, but she wouldn't feel safe when it's around. Let alone_ sleep_ with_ it_ in the same room.

Some day, she would come to realize that, yes, it_ was_ sleeping there to make sure that she wouldn't escape… well, "it" was_ also_ doing so to protect her.

* * *

Had Ryus been human, he would have given the girl a "really?" face, then shook his head chidingly at her. He had heard_ all_ of her thoughts, and while he admired her gumption, resolve, and observational skills… she was going to be _very _tired tomorrow!

Although, he would take the advice about using "repeated stabs" regarding his tail… she was actually quite clever and well-learned-_ another_ oddity among the females of her species. Well, either _that_ or the rest of them just didn't know how to _use_ their intelligence.

* * *

**You know… these chapters would be going a lot faster if you weren't constantly pausing to look up what all of those fancy words mean…**


	7. Chapter 6: Escape

**(REWRITTEN VERSION).**

**Sorry about the long wait, life's been a bitch. As is not a surprise.**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Escape**

**The next morning…**

Ryus was completely and utterly motionless, as he slept. His lips were pulled back the whole night in a convoluted grin to allow him to breath as he slumbered. A human would have probably found the rough carpet to be uncomfortable, but having an exoskeleton, as Ryus does, prevents the rug's fibers from being a problem. Sleep had been rather light and barely restful. Not that he actually _needed_ it, mind you; but he slept anyway. After all, even a _light_ sleep can provide the energy needed in case of danger. Or in case the human female decided to try and run, which is why Ryus had placed himself in the doorway for his rest. To both protect her and keep her detained.

Ryus woke up. His body shifted ever so slightly, curling inward a bit. He took a deep, long breath, his torso rising, and his lips closed to hide his teeth for the first time in 8 hours.

_Another dreamless sleep_, he thought, lifting his head. He slowly, and soundlessly, got to his feet in the doorway, lazily stretched his stiff muscles, and sat down, facing the bed. Ryus had never had a "dream" in his life. The only reason he even found out that humans had them regularly was that he could hear and feel faint thoughts and emotions being emitted from the minds of unconscious Hosts. Though he couldn't understand how or why human's minds were semi-active during rest, he knew that it was, apparently, like a very faint memory. He didn't know what one of _his_ dreams could possibly be like, and he wasn't _entirely_ sure he _wanted_ to know. There was an equally good chance he could have a "nightmare", and judging from the fidgeting and whining of the sleeping humans who had them, it didn't seem like something he'd want to experience.

_Speaking of humans…_, he thought, orienting his head in the direction of his charge. At some point in her sleep she had laid down on her side and gotten under the blanket.

Upon seeing the sleeping woman he was met with a convenient surprise. Instead of howling for her blood, the _Ancestral_ was… well, it was _still_ demanding she be killed, but… it seemed less eager. As if it was getting tired or desensitized to seeing her there and was… he didn't know- getting used to her being around?

Ryus tilted his head as he pondered the reason why. Could it mean that the _Ancestral_ simply believes that all humans are a threat? And that being around this human for this amount of time could be proving it wrong somehow? Was it warming up to the female in some way? Or was it just slightly placated that Ryus had the human within reach and under control, therefore making her a Host, and thus harmless?

The human moaned quietly in her sleep as she fidgeted a bit, drawing his attention.

Ryus studied her for a moment. He had a good idea of how unconscious humans should sound like. And he was curious to see how her body had been coping with the past 24 hours. You could tell a lot about a living thing's mental state by how they sleep. Her heart was beating slightly faster than it should (probably from all of the adrenaline in her system from yesterday), and it flashed a brilliant blue in tempo with every pulse of the powerful muscle.

Ryus had found that, for the first hour of a humans' 8 hour rest, the glow of their hearts would slowly brighten, as if "charging an empty battery". Her diaphragm and lungs were at a normal, sleeping pace, and caused her torso to steadily rise up and down with each slow breath. He could also see what looked to be a translucent outline of the bones in her ribcage, caused by the neural electricity in her lungs and diaphragm. Sometimes it was almost as if humans looked like skeletons to him, if they were doing something to send energy through all of their muscles and bones, such as running.

She wasn't dreaming, or having a nightmare, though the latter would have been more obvious to him. Whenever a human dreams, Ryus could always see faint little electric pulses where their brains were housed.

She was definitely asleep- a light sleep, mind you, but asleep.

Ryus was glad that, somewhere in her head, she felt somewhat safe around him. Otherwise her body and sub-conscious wouldn't have _allowed_ her to sleep in the first place. The more logical and dominant part of her mind would most likely disagree to that assumption, but still.

Ryus had been concerned that she would be overtired, seeing as though she had rejected the food offered to her, and seemed adamant to stay awake with him in the room. But, after an hour or so, she finally succumbed to her fatigue. Ryus had thought she would have stayed awake longer, considering that she had been unconscious for about an hour and a half, yesterday, out of injury and exhaustion; but apparently her body didn't think it had had enough rest. Meaning that his worries were unwarranted.

_But… she'll still be hungry_, he thought, his lower lip curling in a grimace. Fatigue may not have been a cause for concern, for the moment. But hunger would sap her strength. And judging by the way her stomach area would constantly make shriveled, unhealthy looking pulses of cobalt, she could definitely use some sustenance. Ryus had no idea how long she might have gone without food, at this point, but he knew that she would need it, soon. This was not a good state for her to be in, in case one of his Hive-mates got to her, and she couldn't run because of an empty bloody stomach.

Ryus growled quietly and shook his head at the floor._ Can't have her die when I still don't know what makes her so different… and I can't have the Unknown going berserk, again_, he thought, in distaste. In a small fit of anxiety, Ryus's head swiveled on it's joint, and his lips opened to taste the air, searching for any signs of living things nearby. Sensing nothing, he returned to vacantly "gazing" at the human female in question.

Because of her paranoia about poison, he would have to go out and find more food for her. Not that he blamed her for that. Her suspicion was understandable, if a bit illogical. If the smell of undiluted, primal, terror that poured from the bodies of the humans he killed were anything to go by, then the topic of his species was definitely a fear provoking thought to humans._ I don't think I'll ever forget that stench_, he thought, shuddering slightly. He was certain that if he had a human nose, he would have lost his sense of smell long ago. That acrid, gag worthy, scent of fear would probably cause sinus damage.

Ryus remembered smelling his charge's fear yesterday, and hearing the terror induced thoughts from her mind. His tail impulsively coiled and uncoiled around his legs, banging lightly against the doorway where he sat; in contemplation, while he tilted his head to the left. He had just realized something that made him feel like a complete_ dunce_ for not doing. Something that seemed so obvious now.

_Why didn't I try talking to her, yesterday?_, he asked himself, in confusion at his actions, or… lack of actions. He bared his teeth to exhale and inhale, then held his breath, once more. It was actually quite a "dumbass" thing to do, on his part. The moment he had begun to hear her thoughts, when his mind synced up to her brainwave pattern, he could have gone right ahead and talked to her. Quite easily, in fact. In the telepathic terms of his kind's "language", it would have been as simple as plugging a microphone into a machine, and talking… well, thinking, actually. Yet, for some stupid reason, the thought to go ahead and _do so_ never _bloody_ occurred to him! Which is a pretty dumb thing to do, considering that communication would have saved _both_ of them some grief, yesterday.

Ryus threw the topic out of his mind, and oriented his head at the woman's sleeping form, getting back to the task at hand. Nourishment. He tilted his head at her, thinking. He could… he could wake her up and just _tell_ her to stay here. He would be gone for a while, considering how long it had taken him to find the food for her, yesterday. And she might wake up while he was gone.

But then he would have to deal with her immediate disbelief and shock. She would start yammering about how amazing the fact that he could talk was, and asking how he had been able to do so. A situation that Ryus was not in the mood, nor position for. That would take ages to get through, and to be honest, Ryus kind of despised how that would always go down. It was extremely annoying. And plus, she could attract the attention of one of Ryus's Hive-mates with her yelling. And she _would_ yell incredulously.

Ryus stiffened, and hissed quietly in alarm at the notion of how _literally_ getting into her head might affect him. Trying to kill her had ended up giving him an extremely painful seizure and made the Unknown show up (the presence of which was beginning to give him a headache). And when he was going to allow her to be killed by that Soldier, the Unknown wrenched control away from him and essentially condemned Ryus to a life on the run.

_Wow… I never thought I'd ever end up in the position to be thinking that_, he half mindedly realized.

Who bloody _knew_ what could happen if something went awry in telepathic communication. For all _Ryus_ knew, their heads could explode, or something! Or they could _both_ end up having seizures, this time! Or she could escape while he was writhing on the ground in agony! Or both of them could possibly go _crazy!_

Okay… finding out how any of this was possible, and how it was caused because of this human girl, would be _way_ more complicated than he thought. It would be like trying to guess your way through a minefield. At least for now, until they were both safely off of Guardian, and in a place of little risk, he would have to go without talking to her. This situation was just too _new _to take chances. Especially when this kind of situation had _literally_ never happened before.

No. No, none of those possible outcomes to attempting communication _here_ would do. Not at all. For the moment he would just have to find more food for her and try to be quick. He couldn't just offer her the same _rejected_ offering that was under the very bed she was sleeping on. She would just reject it again, and possibly throw it at _him_ instead of at the bathroom door. Besides, perhaps a second offering would somehow garner him some trust from her… or at _least_ make her mouth water enough for her to not be able to resist her hunger anymore.

With his current goal at the fore front of his mind, Ryus got up onto all fours, turned around, and padded away from the bedroom doorway, toward the apartment entrance. His tail gently dragged the bedroom door shut as he moved away, so as to not disturb her. He rose onto his hind legs as he neared the main entrance to the apartment, and reached out a clawed hand to grip the door handle. He pulled it down, and pushed the door open with a small shove.

Leaping out to land in the hallway with a small hiss, he dragged the door shut by it's handle using his tail, again. Ryus tasted the air, and slowly, methodically pivoted on the spot, spinning 360 degrees, his skull facing downwards. It was to allow him to pick up any and all neural electricity from any living things nearby. Just to make sure. He was the only one in the Hive that actually knew how to "direct" his electroreception the way he could. And was thus the only one to benefit from it. He detected nothing except for the sleeping female. Of whom the _Ancestral_ was almost _yelling_ at him to kill, and the _Unknown_ pulsed with sadness at having to leave.

Ryus ignored both of them, growling, and turned to the left to quickly trot down the hallway. His tail slightly stiffening, to counter balance the elevated pace. As he remembered the mental map of the Hive's territory that he knew very well, he realized something _else_ important that hadn't come to mind, beforehand. Despite his knowledge of the area… he didn't actually _know_ where he could find a way to leave Guardian-625…

As it happens, Ryus had no idea where to begin when it came to off-world transportation. Despite his fairly decent grasp of human society, as well as many of the things they invented, he honestly wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a power generator and a spacecraft, if he ever ran into either of those. So, despite his knowing the Hive territory like the back of his clawed hand, he didn't really have much experience in the way of massive machinery or vehicles.

So, trying to explore the areas outside the Hive's dominion would be a pointless endeavor, and not just because he didn't have the knowledge for that to be helpful. But also because the human Colonial Marines had created a ring of death around the territory's border. Smartgunners, Sentry Turrets, SADAR Troopers, humans called "Snipers" who could kill from a mind bogglingly long distance, and even large vehicles built for warfare! Such as APC's and Dropships, both capable of causing destruction on a shocking scale.

So… yet again he was trapped between a rock and a hard place… and this time there would be no easy solution.

Before his thoughts could go much further, something stopped him in his tracks as he was about to get to an intersection in the hallways. He heard something.

He froze, his body tensing, claws digging into the carpet as he snarled in alarm. He swore he had heard… a creak. About 20 yards behind him. _Don't tell me…_, he thought, hissing, as the back of his skull picked up the telltale flashing of a human heart. Already knowing what he'd find, he slowly turned around… to face the human girl that stood outside the apartment door. Frozen. Staring at him in turn. Like a deer caught in the headlights.

_Oh fuck_, he heard a feminine voice whisper. The human's thoughts.

Ryus's muscles tensed up, as his tail stiffened. His legs splayed out a bit, preparing to move quickly. A burn in the back of his head and neck sent flames into his spine as his heart started pumping faster, and adrenaline threatened to send his control out of a window. The _Ancestral_ was setting off all kinds of internal alarms, as if it had completely forgotten that this human had never been a threat.

_You're going to run, aren't you?_, he thought, dryly. His lips tugging into an odd grimace. He could feel the _Unknown_ shrivel in anxiety and concern for the female, within his mind.

She almost immediately, as if in response, whipped around and bolted in the opposite direction.

Ryus hissed as he bounded after her…

It was as he picked up speed and transitioned into a full-pelt sprint that he realized something once more… he could have just used the wardrobe to barricade her in the bedroom, again…

... God fucking dammit!

* * *

**Like I said, life's been a bitch. I'd apologize about the long wait, but I already specified in my profile that these things would take a while.**


	8. Chapter 7: Shit Goes Down

**Hello there! I know it's been a long time since I've updated this story. And I really do apologize for the wait. So, as a reward for your continued ****patience, I present to you: a five-thousand word chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Shit Goes Down**

Ryus's claws shredded the carpet beneath his feet as he sprinted down the hallway, kicking up small tufts of fluffy fibers and sometimes pieces of the floorboards into the air behind him. His tail and head remained rigid, keeping perfectly still despite the rest of his body being in motion, allowing him to maintain perfect balance, as well as to keep his head from swinging about in every possible direction. He had to keep the target within "sight", after all.

His spine and torso flexed inward and outward, like a rapid-fire, spring-loaded, bowstring; as his arms and legs unrelentingly pumped forward and backward so fast, they became barely discernible blurs underneath him. To a human the way he ran would look uncannily like the way a dog, horse, or even cheetah on Earth could be seen moving; not at all like his human-spawned Hive-mates who simply either ran in a lizard-like fashion, or a rather clumsy looking, yet fast, two-legged bound.

As it was, this was the first time he had ever been forced to _sprint_ in his life. As in: "_at your limit_: sprint". Usually, what with him being faster than his human-spawned counter parts, nothing speed-wise had ever required much more effort than a swift jog on his part- not even running from an enraged Marine Smartgunner had seen Ryus be put under any physical strain.

But now, with him chasing the escaping human female, he was shocked to see that he would be _tested_ in this department. She was _definitely_ faster than any human he had encountered- even a Colonial Marine would be hard pressed to win in a foot race against this girl. She moved with a certain… grace that he had never witnessed in another human, as if she was right at home doing this and that she had practice, or something. Ryus was gaining ground, he wouldn't run out of stamina anytime soon, and he _would_ catch her. But _still_… to think that _this_ human would be the one that ends up posing a challenge when it came to pure speed...

It wasn't as if Ryus had never actually gone at this speed before - he had ran like this plenty of times while on patrol - just never when he was in combat had he ever been forced to actually _sprint_ for his enemies.

_First, she draws blood from me with a kick, then she gives me a run for my money in a footrace. What _other_ surprises does she have in store?_, Ryus wondered as he struggled to comprehend the human's thoughts. Her thoughts were being "scrambled" by the adrenaline in her veins and the fear in her mind. Ryus was tuning out the jumbled mess of primal, conceptual thought processes she had in her head. This was not helped by the _Ancestral _and _Unknown_ either egging Ryus on, or begging him to stop and/or not hurt her. Ryus even had to shake his head with a snarl. If _either_ of them were going to get what they wanted, they would have to _shut it_, first! The _Ancestral_, as well as the fiery sensation of adrenaline in the back of his head dimmed down into a dull ache. The _Unknown_ was not so easily subdued, but it calmed down regardless, almost as if it trusted him to do something reasonable.

The hallway had been a straight, turn and corner-less run, for about 60 feet. Now, Ryus could see a sharp right corner up ahead. When one was running at full speed, taking an abrupt turn could either end up slowing you down significantly, or result in falling and coming to a dead stop. Either way, the human female would be caught much faster, and the whole thing wouldn't turn into a prolonged session of "mucking about". Even if no patrols from the Hive went through this entire portion of the complex, it didn't mean that he and the human couldn't be caught "period". And the longer _she _ran through the halls like a bloody maniac, the less their chances of remaining incognito became.

As Ryus and his target neared the corner, he was in for an extra surprise from his escapee. Just as she came up on the corner, she extended her right arm to lightly brush her palm against the wall as she ran. And when her hand had been about to slide off of the corner, she clenched her fingers and gripped the point where the two walls met, using it as a leverage point. As she did so, she jumped, lifting her lower body off of the ground, making her left foot hit the opposing wall to provide a surface to kick off from; allowing her to make a 90 degree turn without sacrificing much momentum.

Ryus would have gaped in surprise, but it would have looked like a yawn with the way his jaws and lips worked. In the span of 2 seconds, she had gained an extra head start while _he_ would be slowed down. Being only moments away from the corner himself, Ryus was forced to work out a maneuver that was completely improvised, and probably wouldn't even work. But his body was already performing it by the time he-

Ryus's actions were guided by pure impulse as he used his existing momentum to leap through the air toward the concave corner of the turn which met up with the wall on his left. He twisted in mid-air onto his right side so he could "land" directly onto the wall. When his claws stuck into the plaster, with_ it_ being his new "floor", his lower body immediately pulled itself "underneath" him while he was clung to the wall; and instantaneously launched himself "upward", jumping with a barking hiss of exertion straight off of wall, successfully shooting himself down the new hallway, toward his target. Ryus once again twisted in mid-leap, reorienting to end up on the ceiling. His instincts had triggered him to automatically start running along the new surface, like with the wall naturally and easily becoming his perception of the "floor".

Multiple infrasound chirps told him that he had successfully kept pace with his charge. It had ended up being as if neither of them had been forced to turn that corner, at all; with the two of them being, more or less, the same distance they were at from each other, 20 seconds previous. She had probably thought that she could lose him that way. In fact, he didn't think that she was even aware that, if anything, he had _actually_ gotten _closer_.

Ryus knew that he would have gotten "vertigo" and thrown up as soon as his relative orientation had changed while jumping off of the wall, if he was human. All he really felt was a slight pang of wooziness when he transitioned from surface-to-surface, and then he felt fine. He only had a vague understanding of how a human "inner ear" worked, so he couldn't accurately determine how or why he and his species didn't experience any kind of motion sickness. He knew that he could remain perfectly balanced while turning on a dime, so…- _never mind_ that, he had a human to catch, dammit!

Ryus pushed himself harder, trying to draw on every bit of speed he could get. As his limbs once again began to build up to speeds of ridiculous proportions, his claws tore long gouges into the ceiling plaster, sending flakes of dried paint and chips of wood down to the floor. Unlike a human, his body utterly lacked any lactic acid, so his muscles didn't burn or make him feel tired. Instead, his body would simply start feeling very warm, as if the inside of his skin was aflame, and it would become difficult for him to breath. Of course, at the time, he had never gotten "tired", so he didn't know this would happen. He didn't even fully realize that he was currently panting loudly.

_Just… a few more… moments__…_, he tried to remain clear of mind, but… he couldn't really think straight. He was only three tail-lengths, 19 feet away from the human female. If he could just keep a clear head for 50 seconds, or so, he would catch her. And yet, with Ryus pushing himself for this long, he could feel the burning in his skin begin to become painful and the _Ancestral_ was urging him to slow down. His electro-reception was getting blurred and… flashy. It was getting difficult to tell if he was looking at the back of a running human, or if he was looking at a bunch of lightbulbs, or something. The whole experience was making it rather difficult to keep his instincts in check, and _that_ mixed with how the burning sensation under his exoskeleton was irritating in and of itself, Ryus had begun to become desperate and, well… short tempered.

Realizing that he wouldn't last much longer like this, and with the _Ancestral's _desire to kill half-guiding him, Ryus snarled viscously out of his growing frustration and dived down to floor, aiming for the human's back, while whipping his tail outward. Even as he tumbled end over end in mid-air, his tail still had perfect aim.

The broadside of his tail-blade was _just_ able to catch her in the small of her back, causing her to yelp and send her tumbling into the floor.

Ryus, having physically collapsed during his last ditch attempt to catch the human female, hit the ground immediately, tumbled and rolled across the floor; ending up slamming head first into the girl's back, who herself was just about to get back up. They both grunted as Ryus continued on his abrupt path down the hallway. Gaining back some of his concentration, he just about managed to reach out at the right moment and dig his claws into the carpet to stop himself from tumbling another 10 feet down the hallway. He slid to a halt while creating a loud tearing noise in the carpet, and then promptly collapsed on the floor with a chuff.

* * *

Once again, Samantha had found herself running for her life from a Xenomorph. Sure, for all _she_ knew, whatever kind of Xeno that the thing behind her was could be faster than a Lurker - one of the only things that had ever been able to catch her - what with _this_ Alien appearing to be mostly quadrapedal in stature, but… well, she was running _now_, and she may as well go with it anyway.

Besides, it felt _good_ to be able to _run_, again. Whether it was because it got her blood flowing, or because it gave her some feeling of control, being able to actually _do_ something after her time of being that Xeno's captive, it made her feel… at home, again. Yes, her left leg burned like hell, and the cracks which were undoubtedly in her ribs made her chest feel like it was being torn apart, but… _Hell_\- she was _moving_, dammit, _wasn't_ she? That had to be a good sign _medically_, at least, even _if_ her body was pretty much just burning muscle mass and running on adrenaline to fuel her, at this point.

Plus… she could practically _taste_ her freedom, now. Samantha was so close, now- she could _feel_ it! She could get away from the Xenomorph behind her, and find another hide out and… wait, just _where_ would she go, exactly? N-no, never mind that, what mattered at the moment, was the "here and "now"! "Eyes on the objective, not future missions". Just like how her dad had taught her- what with him having been in the Colonial Marine Corps. She knew that these narrow hallways would be _perfect _to outrun the Xenomorph behind her, and she knew that she _wouldn't_ squander this opportunity she had been given.

Samantha had been so hopped up on her excitement and feeling of hope, that she didn't even realize that her maneuver with turning that corner hadn't slowed the Xenomorph down- she didn't hear it's panting right behind her and… when she felt something slam into her back while she had been knocked to the floor, and promptly fell straight on her face after trying to get back up… something in her mind had… snapped. "Snapped" is really the only word to describe her mental state.

As she lay there disoriented… she… she just _couldn't_ accept the fact that she would die or not be able to roam free… even while she had still been in that apartment room, she knew that, in the back of her mind, she would never _truly_ give up, or accept her fate. Why she'd never stop fighting until she found what she was looking for. And she perfectly understood the reason for that.

And _now_\- now that she had been caught _again_, and now that, realistically, her fate was sealed once more… memories of what had kept her going throughout the Infestation had come flooding back from the suppressed, rejected corner of her mind.

_Charlie… oh, dear god… Charlie, why?… where did you go, Charlie?_, she thought in anguish as her subconscious brought very painful memories to her attention. The worst part was that she could do nothing to suppress the torrent of sadness and grief- not with how utterly _defeated_ she felt.

Samantha, ever the fighter, immediately began to scramble to her feet, but she heard the Xenomorph hiss before it pinned her to the floor by her shoulders. Not willing to submit, she frantically struggled and clawed at the carpet with her hands as she bit back tears.

She couldn't help but scream. Samantha's emotions were about to get the better of her, for the first time in five months, and there was little to stop her thoughts from making themselves audibly known to the world.

"No!", she wailed with emotional and physical pain, yet desperation and anger, evident in her voice, "I have to _find_ him! I have to find Charlie!"… those words only made the growing storm inside her gut grow more violent, and painful.

She didn't notice the grip on her shoulders suddenly slacken.

…"I have to find my dog…!". A stray tear rolled down her cheek as her head went limp and thudded to the floor, even as she continued to struggle against the Xeno's grip. "I-I have to find him… Charlie".

Out of sheer impulse and rage her elbow connected with the Xenomorph's ribcage, and the weight on her shoulders suddenly lifted. The strike wasn't all that strong, nor really meant to accomplish anything, but all the same, she could now move again, and she immediately got to her feet and went sprinting down the way she had been going. She didn't know why, but she had the impulse to spin 'round and deliver a roundhouse kick to where she had estimated the Xenomorph's head was, even while she had just gotten up, before using the same movement to turn back around and run. She heard the Xeno screech, probably in surprise at her parting shot.

She… might have smiled in satisfaction at that, if she wasn't busy keeping a maelstrom of internal pain and grief from adversely effecting her escape. With her abrupt freedom, she immediately began surpassing the emotions that had aided her escape.

Not again. No more grief. Just run.

* * *

Ryus may have been temporarily physically spent, but the moment he saw the human female - whom he'd tried so hard to catch in the first place - begin to get to her feet, he was on her in two seconds flat. He immediately pinned her to the floor by her shoulders and placed his feet on each of her shins to pin her legs. His tail impulsively curled around under his right arm to hover above the back of her head- perfect spot to impale her skull. She immediately began struggling, predictably. He was about to decide what he was going to do with her. And then… it happened.

When he had knocked her down with his tail, giving her nothing more than a bruise and a stalled diaphragm, knocking the wind out of her, her thoughts had gone, for lack of a better word, numb. Disorganized. Stunted. But _now_, her thoughts became clouded like when she was running from him. Not in the same way, though. Now, he could feel all of her thinking processes become completely overshadowed by one solid maelstrom of emotion. Well, actually, an amalgamation of a lot of emotions. Defeat, failure, grief, sadness, regret, rage, and even a mild amount of irritation. It, like in the bathroom in the apartment, had almost been enough to make him recoil; but his concentration on keeping her still and immobile didn't let him. She then started to fight against his grip even more.

That was when… she spoke.

"No!", she screamed "I have to find him!". Ryus's shock could not have been more complete. _What?_. "I have to find Charlie!". Out of surprise, his grip almost released. "I have to find my dog!… I-I have to find him… Charlie…".

As she said this, most likely out of the torrent of emotions in her head, she never stopped fighting. Her determination was truly commendable. When she elbowed him in the ribs - _it_ actually _hurting_ \- he was forced to let go. She then somehow got both of her legs free, scrambled out from underneath him, and spun 'round to kick him the side of the head as she kept running down the hallway. He gave a bark of pain as his skull slammed into the wall on his left and became imbedded into it. _Why do I get the feeling that she's going to do that a lot?_.

As Ryus was busy wrenching his skull from the wall, yanking his neck like a chain, he had time to properly think about what just happened. _She… she had a… _pet_?_, he thought. Until the very instant in which she said the words "I have to find my dog", Ryus had no knowledge of the concept of a "pet". But as the female had thought of all the things that the concept entailed, Ryus had heard and felt everything to do with it and… yeah, now that he thought about it, a "pet" actually made a lot of sense. And when he thought of the fact that this _human_ had had one, and that her canine companion had been missing for, apparently, a long time… and that the reason it was missing was because of the presence of the Hive… it all forced him to realize something.

Ryus was finally able to pull his head out of the plaster wall after a total of 20 seconds, creating a "crack" sound, and sending flakes of plasticast and wallpaper floating into the air. The entire left side of his skull was coated in dust and dried flakes of white paint, giving a dry, nasty taste in his mouth. He shook his head quickly, snarling, and stalled, standing there for exactly 3 seconds. And in those three seconds, the culmination of his realization was brought fully to bear on his mind.

In the first second, he considered how and why he had been keeping her as his "captive". In the next second, he considered how much his reasons for doing so would actually _matter_, in the grand scheme of things. And in the last second, he considered whether he should chase her down again.

He had pretty much kidnapped, and kept a human female hostage. The reason he did, was because, when he had attempted to kill her, he miraculously got a seizure and some… dormant part of his mind, the _Unknown_, had suddenly appeared. This had _never_ happened to any of his species, and it was extremely likely to be very important to him, and possibly the human herself. In what _way_, he had no idea. So… he had made the hasty decision to keep her with him, and leave Guardian. But… he was beginning to reconsider. How much could this mystery _truly_ _matter_, in the end? How much would he, or _her_, even care? Is any of it worth the effort… especially when it means that he'd have to constrain against a sentient being's free will? So, if he pursued the human female, again, caught her, and took her off of Guardian, somehow, and discovered why all of this insane shit had occurred… _then what_? He'd have an uncertain fate, no objective, and no direction. Nowhere to go. And, depending on how finding the truth would effect him and the human, he might be forced to take her with him… was that _fair_? To _her_? Would it… would it just be best to… to just leave her alone and escape Guardian by himself?

The _Unknown_ was adamantly _against_ the idea, and the _Ancestral_… _actually_ couldn't care less. Odd.

Ryus knew that he had less than 3 seconds to make some sort of decision. It was a moment that would decide his future for better or for worse. He was well aware of this, and it took less than half a second for him to begin sprinting down the hallway once more. Chasing the human female. The choice was quick. Instantaneous. And required little forethought. He barely even knew _why_ he had chosen to do so.

* * *

**34 minutes later…**

Samantha was once again running. Well… she had _been_ running for the last 30 minutes, ever since she had finally gotten away from that Xenomorph. She did not stop; did not rest; and did not look back. Not even when it felt like her muscles were burning, and her swollen left shin felt ready to burst. She had ran for so long, that she had completely left the Apartments, and crossed over into the Commercial District. After all, you could never be "too far away" from a Xenomorph, and… she just… she needed to distract herself from thinking about the long-lost friend from what felt like an eternity ago, that she'd yet to find…

As with most cities on Guardian-625, the districts in New Scena are designed to look and feel completely different from each other. Where the Apartment district was all narrow hallways, colorful carpets, and made with comfort in mind - giving a mood of coziness - the Commercial District was made up of brightly lit, wide, blue-gray metal corridors, with uniform doors, named and numbered plaques _next_ to said doors, and small windows _in_ the doors to view what merchandise could be found. Doors, doors, and _more_ doors, with seldom seen stands or homemade signs outside of them. This was the place where products and services made in the Industrial District would be brought to and sold to the public. Granted, sometimes certain establishments would be found inter-changeably between the two Districts, but only occasionally do you see a restaurant in the ID (Industrial District), or a glass forgery in the CD (Commercial District).

Samantha was aimlessly sprinting down these darkened corridors that had once been bustling with activity and noise, taking random turns, not really thinking about where she should go. She'd quickly learned that, if you didn't have hide-out, the next best thing was to just keep moving.

At this point, since she must have lost the Xeno by now, and there didn't seem to be any sign of others in the area, Samantha had been about to consider stopping when she somehow tripped over a random fallen camera that must have been dropped there at some point. Since she was already exhausted beyond her limits, she immediately collapsed and fell straight on her face with a loud grunt. The floor was undoubtedly cold and hard, but the only sensation Sam could register right now was how utterly _spent_ she was.

Seeing as though none of her limbs seemed willing to cooperate with her will at the moment, she lazily and half-mindedly decided that here would be as good a place as any to take a rest. The side of her head laid down on the metal surface, as craning her neck to look anywhere at the moment felt like too much effort. Over the course of 5 peaceful minutes, Samantha's breathing eventually steadied down from the exhausted panting from a few minutes ago, and her body slowly began to recuperate; occasionally spasming from the sudden lack of demanding movement after spending half an hour continuously working at double capacity. This was when she noticed that she was _really fuckin'_ hungry. So much so, that she considered regretting not eating that food that the Xenomorph had brought her last night.

Samantha had been about to try and get up again, when she heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire way off down the corridor ahead of her…

* * *

Ryus had gotten an idea. As he shadowed the human female through every path she took him, a stray thought had popped up in his mind. What if _she_ could lead them to a way off of Guardian? I mean, if Ryus didn't know where to start when it came to transportation or space vessels… maybe _she_ would. If he could somehow… he didn't know _what_ he could possibly do to set this idea into motion, but… he realized it could be his only chance to complete his agenda of getting off of Guardian.

In any case, for the moment, he had decided to follow at least 30 or 40 yards behind the human female - so as to not be noticed - and then catch her when she got tired. It was a sound method, she would eventually run out of breath and he'd be able to recapture her much more easily if she was exhausted.

What he had _not_ expected, was for her to go on an all out sprint for a half-hour _straight_. She'd even drawn him out of the apartment dwellings and into what the humans called the "Commercial District". Ryus almost immediately dreaded their location and stark conspicuousness- he had taken a _big_ risk when he came here to bring her food, last time. He may not have been considered a traitor _yet_, but… he still didn't want to risk an encounter with any former Hive-mates.

At first, the _Ancestral_ had insisted that she be brutally torn apart, especially as Ryus was following her, but as his objective of tailing the female drew on, the _Ancestral_ seemed to get… bored, for lack of a better word. It sort of was, just… Ryus guessed "desensitized" to the human's presence. Ryus was curious, if not, glad that the _Ancestral_ was showing signs of suppressing itself, at least, where _this_ human was concerned. Can't necessarily say the same for any _other_ human. The _Unknown_ seemed quiet and content to simply keep the human in "sight".

Ryus silently and swiftly crept around a corner, only to see the human female trip and fall over on some small object that he didn't know the name of. He stopped in his tracks and crept backward to hide himself behind the wall. For about five minutes, she simply laid there, seemingly catching her breath and resting. Ryus debated revealing himself now that she was down for the moment- perhaps a more "submissive" stance and body language would garner a calmer reaction from her when he approached-

The sound of human gunfire echoing through the corridor, the human female almost immediately standing up and jogging towards the sound, and an entire entourage of internal alarm bells and instincts slamming through Ryus's head, all transpired within the span of 4 seconds, catching Ryus completely off guard.

The first order of business was to get his instincts under control. Human weaponry may be a tad bit lackluster in appearance, but they _still _did a decent job of turning any unwitting members of his species into swiss cheese with blood gushing from the holes. Thus, it was only natural for the _Ancestral_ to immediately flip a switch and set off a hundred different defensive impulses and send his adrenal gland into overdrive- resulting in a burning sensation shooting up his spine. Ryus forced the _Ancestral_ to shut the _fuck_ up, and quelled the feeling of lava pouring down his back- inadvertently bashing his head into the wall next to him as he stumbled and clutched at his skull with a snarl.

The moment that Ryus had a clear head again, time seemed to stand still. This was one of the moments in his life where he had to make a split-second decision based upon blunt, instinctual shards of information that would briefly flash through his head.

_There's most likely a squad of Colonial Marines less than 80 yards from where I am - the human female is jogging in that direction - if I try to run her down, she'll just run, in turn, and I'll end up in the perfect place to get shot at- if I allow her and the Marines to make contact, there's a good chance I'll never be able to get to her, again- and there's an opened vent right in front of me, and- oh my God, why aren't I going inside it?!_

Indeed, there _was_ a vent with it's grating torn off directly in front of him, at floor level, that he could easily use as a means to… to… Hell, he didn't know- but it's his only real option and he has a total of 6 seconds to make a decision before something potentially bad happens and he _really_ needs to _DO SOMETHING ABOUT ALL OF THIS STUFF THAT'S HAPPENING!_

* * *

**Again, I can't stress enough that the _Ancestral_ and _Unknown_ are simply bundles of instinctual influences which effect Ryus's mood/actions… or are _supposed_ to. Ryus simply channels the feelings he gets from them into a more understandable context., i.e: "it's telling me this", or "it's pulsing with that".**


	9. Chapter 8: Shots Fired

**Hm. Received a Review in which the writer did nothing but insult me, due to some weird need to attack me. I deleted it. If you (haters) _do_ start throwing verbal excrement at me, at _least_ have the decency to do so while using (one of) your account(s). It's actually quite off-putting- being unable to reply and try to discern _why_ you feel the need to "deal with me"- even though it isn't your ****responsibility to do so, nor are you ever obligated to. Something else that would be great - if you "haters" can manage it - would be if you could explain (in _detail_) _exactly why_ you hate me. Even though you can only ever truly hate someone that you know personally, but, whatever.**

**However, if your "hate-mail" is chockfull of inordinate and incoherent bullshite with _zero_ evidence to support your spite and rage, then I _will_ remove the "review" with the scalpel known as "writer's authority". If you're going to criticize me, you'd better have something actually intelligent or rational to say.**

**On another matter, I'd like to address something that may be a concern in the future. My "arrogance". Apparently my confidence and dry sense of humor are off-putting to some. I don't typically think of myself as an arrogant person- I try to be as humble as possible, actually. I've seen what happens when authors don't _communicate_ with their readers. Needless to say, it turns into an utter shitstorm, otherwise. Case in point: IluthraDanar and the incident with chapter fourteen of "Thicker Than Blood".**

**Enjoy your chapter… you ungrateful pricks (smirk).**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Shots Fired.**

Staff Sergeant Brandon Orinoco lowered his USCM-issued submachine gun as the sleek, black form of a Xenomorph Warrior collapsed to the floor with a thud; it's body now stained with blotches of bright yellowish/green, and riddled with bullet holes, causing the corpse to leak a profuse amount of alien blood. Said liquid was what now covered the entire opposing half of the room, being where one of the doors were, and where the small pack of Xenos had assaulted his team from.

Whatever had been the wall and floor of the opposite side of the room was now reduced to a sizzling mass of quickly decaying metal. The last Xenomorph to be shot down (by Brandon's own hand) was but one of seven _other_ of the monsters that had burst into the room screeching war cries, just now. Luckily, the squad had been extremely alert prior to the attack and had promptly shot the monsters down with a simultaneous maelstrom of bullets. And a small burst of fire from a flame-unit. All of the corpses of the squad's assailants were now piled on top of each other near the door they had emerged from. The acidic alien blood continued eating away at the floor and wall he was facing, creating smoke and noxious fumes that offended his nose, even from 10 feet away.

Brandon, seeing that the immediate threat was gone, straightened up from his slouched defensive posture and exhaled deeply. His handsome, scarred face was drenched in sweat, and his breathing was ragged, forcing him to take breaths in an effort to calm himself down. Anxiety was never good for a Colonial Marine, like him. Especially in a place like this, where the suspense of the fact that you and your squad could be ambushed by 'Bugs' at any second seemed to relentlessly wear away at your sanity. If you became too jumpy, you could end up firing off a shot from your weapon because of the slightest noise and end up hurting someone. And he knew from experience.

This was his ninth deployment into the Xenomorph Hive Territory (or XHT), formerly known as part of the great province of Leprosum. Being that his entire former platoon (only a squad of which his was _with_ at the time) had been annihilated by the Xenos in a _day_, he was promoted because of his obvious skill from being the only survivor and put in charge of a different squad. The group he was with _now_, and carried authority over, had only been sent into the XHT on three occasions, as opposed to his previous eight, making him the "veteran" of the group. Odd, considering he was only 23 years old.

To say the relationship he retained with his current squad was slightly awkward at times would be very accurate. One minute, he's just another team-member, taking part in all of the banter and joking; then ten minutes later, everyone's out in the field, there's a disagreement, and anyone who disobeys him can be court-martialed. Very, uh… very precarious social dynamic going on.

Like many other deployments, he and his team were now dropped into the middle of the Infestation Zone by Dropship, usually into a stray courtyard in the endless sea of metal rooftops (only broken apart by the occasional "mini-skyscraper" or roofless garden/pavilion), and sent to scout in any random direction to look for survivors and shoot Xenomorphs. Seriously, all of _that_ was _literally_ in the job description.

Initially to Brandon, this sounded like the perfect assignment in an already perfect job. Thrown into the middle of an ocean of chaos and danger? Kill as many Xenos as possible in the heat of battle? Get paid five grand for every alien killed, and every civi found and escorted to the rendezvous point? His reaction in his platoon's first briefing included sixteen words: "Well, what the Hell are we waiting for!? Let's get out there and start the killing!".

Like him, his comrades at the time had all shared a sense of enthusiasm and excitement. Brandon remembered the platoon's first deployment. The feeling of anticipation and, even some fear, was simmering in the air of the Dropship they were being transported in. After all... they were going to be fighting _Xenomorphs_! Frickin' _Xenomorphs_! These things were from bloody campfire stories- they're icons of _legend_! And the KD (Komodo Dragon) Platoon, of the United States Colonial Marine Corps, stationed on Guardian-625, was going out to _slaughter_ them! How _badass_ is that!?

...

Of course, all of that was before-

"Hey, Boss!", a feminine voice yelled behind him, catching Brandon's attention. The Staff Sergeant was snapped out of his daydream (which had been about to take a very bad turn), and shook his head as he turned around to face his squad.

Oh right. He was on a mission. With his team. Yes. This was happening. This was a thing. That was going on. Right now. In which Brandon had, somehow, with all of his Marine training and discipline, spaced out and stared at a wall for 2 minutes. While he and his squad could have been attacked by anything from a crazed, paranoid, psychopathic survivor, to a small army of Xenomorphs.

That was unacceptable.

_Get yourself together, man! Get your damn head in the game and _keep it there!, Brandon mentally berated himself.

As he turned around to face his team, holding his SMG in one hand, while reaching up to turn off the flashlight perched on his left shoulder with the other, the same female voice that caught his attention called out again.

"What do we do now?".

The owner of the voice was Lance Corporal Rachel Genner. She had walked away slightly from the others- toward him, and was gazing at him questioningly, as were the rest of the squad. Apparently the rest of the team had formed a sort of small "meeting" near the other side of the room to… were they discussing what to do next while he was day-dreaming? Huh. Maybe he _was_ having a good, productive influence on them. They had obviously caught on to how he liked to run things and were doing it themselves. Even the shotgun wielding synthetic and the flamethrower toting Weyland-Yutani merc' had begun to integrate into the "routine" - if you could call it that - seeing as though both were, at least, _mimicking_ the others.

Brandon silently looked to all seven of the soldiers before him, the people he was responsible for. They looked at him with fake apathy and feinted resolve. To the inexperienced eye, they all looked rather relaxed and ready for a fight. This was, sadly, far from the truth.

What was left of the remaining part of the room (the other half of it, behind him, being melted into an amorphous mass of burning metal) had just enough furniture in it for one to make a guess at what it used to be- before the infestation, that is. Well, a "guess" may be stretching it, slightly- more of an inference. The only intact furniture that hadn't been caught in the recent acid spray, or hadn't fallen into the collapsed, melted area of flooring was a marble counter-top, three cheap, wooden stools, and another door, which Brandon could see behind his men. So, a workshop, or bar, perhaps.

Right now, three of the Marines before him had either perched themselves on top of the counter, or had dragged a stool over to sit on. Rachel- who had crossed her arms and stood patiently as she probably figured out that Brandon was coming to a decision- not included. One other Marine, a Private - Mr. Gorm, was it? - was leaning on the counter, trying to act nonchalant and stand tall (causing Brandon to notice how the Private's arm was shaking as it held him up using the marble counter-top). Of course, the android was simply standing there, Tactical Shotgun being lazily held at stomach level, as if they all _hadn't_ just been in a fight for their lives. Though, Brandon couldn't say he was surprised, since the robot didn't feel fatigue. And the Wey-Yu merc' was _trying_ to act unfazed. The fact that the, usually, hard-to-read man's legs were shaking at erratic intervals didn't exactly make the façade very convincing.

Brandon could see straight through what these soldiers - his squad - were trying to do. Taking up casual positions and relaxed postures in an effort to look unfazed, lively, or at all ready for a fight. But the fact that almost all of them had adopted an act that a soldier would only do when they're tired gave it away. Plus, with Gorm's limbs looking about ready to give way, it couldn't be helped if it influenced Brandon's next decision.

They were torn between the desire to head for HQ and get some R&amp;R, and continuing with their assignment in the XHT. This behavior had developed a few days ago, and Brandon had yet to identify the source of it. It was as if they all _wanted_ to call it a day and leave, but felt they could not, or _should _not. As if they… felt that they were under some sort of personal obligation to keep going as long as possible. Predictably, this lead to the team being absolutely dead-tired after every mission, and in the precarious position of having to take extra time off between excursions out in the XHT. This, in turn, lead to them apparently wanting to work even _longer_ to make up for it, and the vicious cycle would continue.

Brandon knew this had to stop.

He would call it a day and order for them to retreat to the nearest drop-off point to be picked up by EVAC. After all, their job was done here. They had _certainly_ slaughtered enough Xenomorphs (as evidenced by the small video cameras attached to their helmets) in order for each of them to be paid five grand, maybe more, and they had even found a civilian-

Upon thinking of the survivor that the squad had stumbled on, Brandon quickly looked about the room, trying to locate the man. As if on que, a dark-skinned, gaunt-faced man pensively stood up from behind the counter, where Brandon couldn't see him before. The survivor had been scrounging around for food in another part of the District when the squad had found him. The man was skinny - too skinny to be called healthy - with a number of scars visible through shreds in his, obviously overused, black t-shirt. The poor guy was bare-foot, with all manner of dirt and grime covering his already black skin, and with a rather nasty looking acid burn on his leg- revealed by a massive hole in the left pants-leg of his khakis. Apparently this guy, named Cole, used to be a police officer (as evidenced by the service pistol hooked to his belt and short-cropped hair) before the infestation went into full swing and had been surviving ever since. Brandon assumed that the former cop was only hiding during the previous firefight because of a lack of bullets in his weapon. Cole now looked at Brandon with the same questioning look as Rachel.

Yeah. With how, comparatively well, this excursion had gone, Brandon felt confident that now would be a good time to head back to the improvised USCM/Wey-Yu HeadQuarters out-of-province.

He was _just_ about to say so, having come to a decision, when a loud, visceral, metal slam interrupted the relative silence, and everyone's attention was brought to the previously closed door behind them.

* * *

Samantha's shoulder slammed into the metal, gray door, allowing her to burst straight through the entrance to the room beyond without slowing down from her jog. The next thing she knew, about seven barrels of various firearms were pointed straight at her face. Scratch that- eight, the Combat Android in the room seemed to nonchalantly realize that his companions were hostile, and decided to mimc the collective stance that everyone else had taken up.

Naturally, her first reaction was to throw her hands up and come to a dead-stop to avoid colliding into someone from her momentum.

Before a person could blink, one of the Marines - who seemed to realize the new arrival was human - on the left side of the room shouted "FRIENDLY!", signaling everyone else to drop their weapons and relax. Okay. Probably not the best way to get rescued. As fast as _her_ blood was pumping, right now, Samantha probably just gave all of these soldiers a heart-attack with her sudden entrance.

All weapons were lowered as a collective sigh sounded from everyone in the room (except the Android) diffused the situation. Samantha released a breath she didn't know she was holding and hunched over, hands on her knees, exhausted. She gasped and panted, partly from relief, partly from exertion, as she called out to no one in particular- "Sorry. I heard gunshots and… well, I just sort of ran here" she briefly explained.

The soldiers in the squad all looked at each other for a brief moment, seeming to come to some sort of non-verbal decision, before a woman in solid green (Marine) armor near the back of the group shrugged and waved her Pulse rifle about for emphasis- "Well, this is a pleasant surprise. We get scared shitless, and stumble upon another survivor as a reward for _not_ shooting at the slightest noise", she said, sarcasm and mirth thick in her voice.

The scottish accented blonde suddenly looked at another Marine, a Private, "… Gorm", she said pointedly, causing at least two other people to chuckle. Must be an inside joke. The subject of the apparent barb, Gorm, sent a brief scowl in the direction of the group's "jokester". Samantha spotted and read the Marine's name tag- _"Lance Corporal Genner"_.

In the next few seconds... Samantha smiled as she suddenly began to fully realize something. This was _it_. I mean, it may be a bit early to close the chapter of the story detailing her experience in the Xenomorph Hive Territory, and to declare her officially rescued. But… she was _pretty much _in the clear! These guys would escort her to the nearest EVAC-zone, she could return to civilized society, and she'd most likely be given copious amounts of monetary compensation and public recognition. She could almost see herself immediately flipping off the press (after receiving her money, of course), walking like a badass to the nearest space-port, and taking the first shuttle off of Guardian-625. The thought made her grin slightly harder, the bubbly feeling of hope starting to accumulate in her stomach.

Samantha chuckled ruefully in response, "yeah, sorry 'bout that. But when you're stuck in a cesspool of toxicity and death for six months, you tend to want to take any chance you can get to leave", she joked, chuckling, apologizing for giving the squad of soldiers a fright. She frowned when no one laughed. The situation only made more awkward when someone coughed (whether by accident or on purpose because they thought they were funny, she had no idea). The room seemed to increase in temperature by ten degrees, making Samantha shuffle on the spot uncomfortably as she grimaced.

Damn. Well, it seems her sense of humor hadn't improved by any significant degree, since before the Infestation. She couldn't remember the last time she made anyone laugh.

She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the sudden scratchiness in her windpipe. She looked around for wherever the leader of this group of Marines was. "Well, uh, should we get going then? You know- get the Hell out of dodge before we, uh… get jumped by a pack of Xenos?", she asked, standing on her toes, glancing about at everyone, trying to get some sort of agreement. Almost everyone nodded… except for the suspicious looking black man who kept giving her a shifty look… as if _she_ was the one everyone needed to watch out for… instead of the Xenomorphs that could be watching out for _them_ right now.

She was about to chuckle at how her thought could have just as easily have taken a racist turn when the man in question suddenly spoke up. "Hold on a minute", everyone who had just been preparing to leave stopped and turned to the guy. "What's your name?…" he asked Samantha in a borderline accusatory tone, with narrowed eyes.

"It's Sa-", She was about to immediately answer the question with the signature attitude that she'd been known for pre-Infestation (never being one to take shit from anybody) when she suddenly hesitated. Why would he want to know that? She defensively crossed her arms over her abdomen when she noticed that everyone else, the soldiers, had now turned to her. Without knowing why, she inexplicably felt like a rabbit being sized up by wolves, even though she really had no reason to be afraid at this point. The Marines and merc' present did not seem particularly suspicious- they all displayed the behavior of a crowd of onlookers.

But still… she knew that her name could carry weight and unwanted scrutiny from the wrong people, should said people be equipped with the right knowledge. As to why _this_ guy felt the need to ask when he honestly had no _real_ _need_ to... it could indicate the need for caution on her part.

Trying her best to come off as defensive and indignant, attempting to paint the man as being the unreasonable one, she retorted: "why should I tell _you_? Why should either of us care what each other's names are?".

The guy narrowed his eyes, "because you happen to fit the bill of a criminal's physical description, that I once read", he stated, voice become cold.

The room's temperature seemed to drop by about 30 degrees, as multiple pairs of eyes present widened in interest. Samantha tried her best to continue to look indignant and aloof. The chill running up her spine and the hairs on her neck standing on end didn't help.

He _knew_ about?...

The man continued to speak as the group repeatedly shifted their gazes between him and Samantha, "back in the first few weeks of the infestation, when me and the rest of the NSPD were working on evacuating civilians, a report came into the station of a murder. The crime was caught on camera and took place in a certain warehouse, filled with Colonial Marine and Wey-Yu ordinance", he explained.

The room was utterly silent as everyone paid rapt attention.

"The perpetrator picked up a firearm - a shotgun - and shot at a police officer when they got spooked".

Samantha, for the second time, experienced real terror. It was only her controlled breathing, from training as a runner, that stopped her from sweating bullets in anxiety. She didn't know if this guy, obviously a cop, had _seen_ this camera footage and she didn't know if the officers at the station could identify the "criminal" from the video evidence, and not knowing the details was only making her fears worse. She remembered the incident that the man was talking about and… she didn't want to think about that! Not now!

The cop spoke again, his tone turning slightly cocky, "of course, _I _didn't _watch_ the footage, but I did read the case file on the crime".

The Marines all had alarmed or nervous looks on their faces. The Wey-Yu mercenary's face was concealed in a mask. Only the synthetic seemed composed, watching the scene with interest.

"The perpetrator was female- a brunette, about 5 10', with a white shirt and jean trousers. She had green eyes and waist length hair. Estimated to be about 28. She was identified as a certain 'Samantha Cursua Bodisson'", he drawled...

The description of her appearance was almost perfect (aside from the dried blood in her hair and three, small scars running across her right cheek and side of her neck. As well as her clothes having numerous cuts in and tears in them), and the mention of her full name both confirmed Samantha's fears and increased them. She could feel the curious, and suddenly very stern, gazes of everyone in the room. Even the Combat Android looked ever-so-slightly aggressive in his usually indifferent posture.

_Oh no..._

The officer crossed his arms, an expectant look taking over his face...

"So. What's your name?", he asked slowly in a firm voice.

This was it. She was stuffed. She couldn't very-well lie to the guy's face- all members of the New Scena Police Department were given extensive and impressive amounts of training in body language analyzing and negotiation. If she told a straight-up fib, he'd be able to tell. Any New Scena cop worth his salt could point out a liar from the way the person wakes up and has their morning stretch!

Sam was… stuck. She'd be caught.

Her mouth hung slightly open as she tried to think of way out of this, but she found none. She couldn't change the subject- that would just prove this bastard right.

After a few seconds of everyone staring at her (each second feeling like an eternity), the tension in the room was broken by the sound of a Xenomorph's distant screech.

The call echoed ominously from an unknown source, causing all of the Marines to become alert, as they looked sharply in various directions. Samantha had been in the Infestation for the better part of six months- those kinds of sounds didn't really faze her as much as they used to. Apparently, neither did they faze the police officer, since he kept a stern glare locked onto Sam.

A Marine - "Brandon Orinoco" from the look of his name tag - bit his lip and looked at the policeman nervously.

He addressed the man, "hey, look, Cole, uh… maybe we should just head out and get to the EVAC point. I mean, even _if_ she's the one you're talking about, _we've got her_! She's _with us now_ and if she isn't stupid and doesn't want to die from a hole in the head or by Facehugger, she'll gladly come with", the (presumably) leader reasoned. Samantha didn't know if she wanted to kiss the guy for taking the focus off of her, or to punch him in the stomach for turning this whole situation into even _more_ of a predicament.

"Yeah… maybe…" 'Cole' conceded, giving Samantha a spiteful look.

She couldn't blame the man for doing his job, especially with him having a good enough work-ethic to _continue_ doing his job when his work place and Province-of-birth was turned into a massive death-trap. But that didn't stop her from wanting to run and hide. She realized that "Cole" would probably just shoot her with the Service Pistol on his thigh, if she did, so that option wasn't preferable.

Apparently taking Cole's concession as some sort of "okay", everyone except Samantha began walking toward the intact doorway to leave, when a second screech resounded through the area. Sounding much closer this time.

All soldiers jumped and adopted ready stances- their hands all going to their holstered weapons. The Xenomorphs were upon them. They'd stayed in the same spot for too long.

Samantha was about to move closer to the middle of the group for safety when she realized… she could use this opportunity to run. She stepped closer to the exit behind her, being the only one in the room with a straight path to it. Cole spotted her when she was about to cross the boundary of the door frame and pulled his service pistol on her. The look he gave her could freeze lava.

"Don't you dare", he warned. The other soldiers heard him and _likewise_ pointed their guns at her. _Shit_. Guess the whole "she'll die anyway if she doesn't come with us" thing was promptly forgotten.

Samantha was about to make a break for it. She was going to take her chances and run. After all, she didn't survive a Xenomorph infestation for six months to go to jail afterwards, _or_ to get shot by some military grunts and an ornery police officer.

But when she took another step back… the sound of a metallic *bang*, followed by muffled snarling was heard above and behind her.

Then, a louder clang. Something metal hitting the floor. A hiss. Samantha glanced behind her…

"FUCK! SHOOT!", Gorm screamed.

Three staccato bursts, followed by multiple curses, and a searing pain erupts in Samantha's arm. She screams and falls backward. And everything goes black.

* * *

**Sorry for the long wait, but I've been working on a side project. And no, I'm not going to address this ****cliffhanger, or comment on it. What? There's always a reason for everything I do. So, yes, I have given you all a look at how the joint Colonial Marine and Weyland-Yutani military works out in the field. If anyone wants to write a oneshot, or a story starring mister Orinoco and his squad, be my guest, you have my full permission.**


	10. Chapter 9: Revenge…

**Chapter 9, yay! Would you guys believe me if I said that I wrote this in three afternoons? 'Cause I did.**

* * *

**Chapter 9: "Revenge… "**

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! This isn't good, this isn't good, THIS ISN'T GOOD!_, was what encapsulated the extent of Ryus's thoughts in this situation. After all, he had just royally fucked up, and was now dragging the unconscious human female - Samantha - by her feet, down a hallway. He shuffled backwards as fast as he could while standing on his hind legs and hunched over from the dead weight, trying to find the nearest apartment. A thick, long trail of blood was being drawn across the length of the hallway's floor, from the wound on the girl's left arm. Three bullet holes from a three-round-burst of a Pulse Rifle.

This situation was a very distressing one- Ryus was torn between taking a slow, methodical pace to ensure the human's injuries weren't exacerbated, and just pulling her over his shoulder so he could sprint and tend to her wound sooner.

How all of this happened was… still a blur to him. One minute, he had dropped down from the ceiling behind the female in a desperate attempt to dissolve the tense situation she was in, the next he watched her fall down from a gunshot and… he didn't really know what happened next. But he knew it involved a lot of screeching, a lot of running, and a lot of bashing human soldiers over their heads with his fists. The _Unknown _must have taken over, again. That idiotic Private, the one who shot Samantha, appeared to have a concussion too, by the time Ryus could reclaim any coherent thought, and free will.

So, at the time, he decided to get… Samantha - it would take some getting used to thinking of her that way - back to the Apartments where he could do something about the bullets in her shoulder.

It shouldn't need to be said how far away Ryus's thoughts were from being coherent- right now he was just in a panicked haze. Why? Because the human whom he'd just learned the name of was bleeding out! That's why! Pay attention! He needed to get to the nearest apartment as soon as possible.

What was only fifteen minutes, to find a domicile, felt like twenty years to him. Though the _Ancestral_ couldn't give less of a shit if Samantha died of blood loss, the _Unknown_ and his own acquired conscience still made his heart hammer away within his ribcage out of sheer hysteria. He swore that, were it not for his exoskeleton, the organ would have already burst from his chest.

Within minutes he had kicked in the front door, placed the human on the, immediately visible, bed, locked the door, searched the very small apartment, found a rotten apple (which he quickly rolled under the bed), slathered the door hinges and vents in Hive Resin to lock them down, and switched on every possible electrical device in the domicile. The apartment only consisted of three rooms, so he didn't have to move very far.

Ryus briskly trotted out of the bathroom, mind set slightly at ease now that they weren't as obvious of a target, and sprint-jumped onto the bed on which Samantha, the human, lay. He sat up on his haunches, more than half of his tail hanging off of the cushy platform.

And now… he had to tend to her wound. Tentatively turning over the Human's unconscious body, Ryus's lip curled in trepidation- he knew less about treating Human injuries, than he knew about high-end art pieces! Literally! He didn't know the first thing about serious, modern Human medicine, yet he somehow knew what "three-point-perpective" was? _That_ just didn't make any sense.

But that wouldn't stop him from trying. He wasn't going to just let the effort he's spent on keeping this Human alive go to waste. Especially not when he could do something about it. Not when he actually had the chance to keep a person from dying. Not when it was his fault that the person was hurt in the first place.

Once Samantha was lying on her back, she squirmed in discomfort, causing electricity to flash through her injured arm. Barring the fact that it probably caused her pain to do so, it allowed Ryus to temporarily examine the bone of her right forearm. He knew what a broken or damaged bone would look like when it was moved, and he could plainly see that the bullets had not tore into Samantha's humerus.

The three rounds had only dug through the bicep. The main problem was the bullets themselves. From what Ryus knew, the ammunition that the Colonial Marines used for their guns were designed to cause heavy bleeding, and were partially made from a toxic material called "lead". Each round had serrated ridges and, sometimes, carried incendiary materials that ignited a small amount of napalm when they struck something.

Luckily, the bullets that Samantha was hit with were not flammable. Ryus was pretty sure that this kind of ammunition was illegal, somehow. But whatever laws were in place probably didn't apply to dangerous extraterrestrials.

The second thing to worry about was the profuse bleeding.

It probably should have offended Ryus that the Human weapon-designers were doing everything in their power to make everything that their soldiers used as deadly as possible to Xenomorphs, but he didn't really blame them. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that his species were almost living weapons, themselves.

Ryus wasted no time in deftly tearing the Human's shirt into pieces with his talons and tossing the scraps of cloth off to the side (the clothing was soaked with blood and ruined anyway). With nothing to get in the way… he began to attempt the task of digging the offending bullets out of Samantha's arm.

He gently gripped the injured arm near the shoulder with his right hand, applying pressure to try and stem blood flow. The female squirmed and whimpered in pain, tossing her head in the other direction as her brow creased. Holding down her shoulder to the bed, Ryus slowly and methodically stuck the index finger of his left hand into one of the three bullet holes. He slid the claw inside and stopped when he felt metal.

He had the feeling that this would be very painful, so he planted his right foot on Samantha's stomach in the effort to stop her from moving and exacerbating the injury.

Ryus took a breath and tried to hook his claw around the bullet. The Human groaned in her dazed unconsciousness. Feeling that his claw was in the best position to dig out the foreign object… he took a chance and quickly yanked it out.

He got a nasty surprise when the female's eyes snapped open with a loud shriek of pain. When she jolted off the bed as if having received an electric shock, her fight or flight instinct must have kicked in when her unrestrained fist swung and delivered a hard punch to Ryus's head, causing him to grunt. The brief burst of energy on her part subsided as she began to go into shock from the pain.

Just before she fully lost consciousness and passed out, she seemed to take note of both him and her wound.

_Hm. Even when she's barely conscious, she's still a fighter_…

If Ryus had been Human, (and had the necessary digestive system) he probably would have thrown up by now. Humans seem to harbor an aversion and discomfort toward blood, injuries, violence, and death in general. Apparently feeling nothing beyond slight guilt at causing Samantha pain (as opposed to instinctual nauseousness) was a good thing.

Despite the female's instinctive retaliation to the pain, the bullet had successfully been removed, it was now on the carpet to the left of the bed.

This now left Ryus with a new problem. The bullet had served as a blockage while lodged in the wound, but now that it was gone, blood had begun to gush from the hole at a far more accelerated rate. This left him in a temporary state of panic- he didn't have anything to wrap up or bandage the wound. For a second, he just stared at the bullet hole in trepidatious indecision.

Then he came up with something...

Opening his maw, Ryus's Piston Jaw extended from his throat and hovered over the dripping wound in Samantha's arm. A thick, bile-tasting liquid began to slowly drip from the pharyngeal jaw's opening, as he started to regurgitate Hive Resin. The amorphous liquid spread over the small bullet hole, naturally resisting from falling _into_ the wound due to it's elastic nature.

Now, with the bleeding completely stopped, Ryus was then able to extract the other two bullets from Samantha's arm.

This solution was, admittedly, probably ill-advised. He had no idea what effect Hive Resin could have on Human physiology. Granted, it worked for _his_ kind- whenever a Soldier or Ranger was injured, the first thing they'd do is slather Hive Resin over the wound. Of course, that method of treatment usually worked better _after_ the actual bullets were removed. Not every one of his kind had the foresight or patience to do so- Ryus was well aware that Hive Resin acted like a painkiller. But… _if_ using it on Samantha turned out to be a bad decision, then…

… then it would be his fault. Simple as.

That wasn't to say that Ryus was, in any way, nonchalant or flippant when it came to Samantha's potential mortality. He _certainly_ didn't want or need her dead- not that the _Ancestral _gave a shit either way. If she died, so what, right?

But, no. Ryus did _not_ want the female to die.

There were multiple reasons, of course. The first, and most logical, was that he didn't want the time and effort that he'd spent in keeping her alive to go to waste- not when he had the ability to stop it.

The second was the longterm goal that he'd already set himself on: finding out why his mind and body reacted the way it did to Samantha, and finding out what the _Unknown_ was.

The third was because the _Unknown_ would probably stage a visceral opposition towards the idea of the Human dying, and said opposition would most likely come in the form of instinctual override or a seizure.

The fourth was because Ryus… _admired_ Samantha. For a Human female, she was an exception among her species. Unlike almost every other Human, she was able to out-sprint a Soldier, and could almost beat _him_, a Scout, in a footrace. She definitely wasn't lacking for bravery or willpower, either. Even though she had been undoubtedly afraid when he'd first met her, she still possessed the will to act. _That_ was bravery: the ability to will yourself past your own fear. Not that… _he_ had ever had much cause to feel the emotion- he and his race were literally at the top of the food chain on this planet. Plus, she, uh… to say that Samantha was tough would be an understatement. Especially for a female civilian. Human women who weren't in the military, more often than not, had the muscle mass and backbone of bird hatchling. Sam also seemed to be a lot smarter, or at least, more scientifically inclined, than others of her race.

Samantha was fast, brave, determined, (relatively) durable/strong, and smart. Again: simple as.

The fifth reason for Ryus's sympathy and concern was that… well, his own conscience. A very naive, very inexperienced sense of morality, but… well, that was that, wasn't it?

After five minutes of meticulously removing bullets and sealing wounds with Hive Resin, Ryus released the female's arm and allowed her to simply lay on the bed where she was.

Blood had seeped into the bedding in a large stain, beneath Samantha's shoulder. He grabbed the blanket and haphazardly covered Samantha with it.

As Ryus crawled onto the foot of the bed, the first thing that came to him was anger. That Colonial Marine- the Private… "Gort", was it? Ryus felt a certain amount of… rage. Indignant, irritated, undeniable, vexatious, _ire_! He wasn't sure exactly _what_ he was angry with the Human about. Whether it was the Marine's trigger-happy idiocy, or if it was the fact that the Human had such a lack of self control that he was liable to shoot a member of his own species. But Samantha had been _shot_ because of him! And one thing was for sure...

… Ryus _loathed_ the idiotic or incompetent!

And so, he tore off the Resin from the apartment door, locked it behind him and resealed it, then set off to find that squad of Colonial Marines. The only thing that occupied his mind was something he'd learned a long time ago.

"Revenge solves everything".

* * *

**Three hours later.**

The half-asleep form of Samantha tossed and turned in the bed which she lay on. A myriad of sensations assaulted her exhausted mind. Pain, aching, a dry throat, what felt almost like a mild fever, something cold and scratchy that covered her right arm, an inability to _move_ said arm without copious amounts of throbbing, a crushing sense of tiredness, and a nauseousness that could only come from blood loss.

But _most_ of all?… she felt like a bitch.

That Xenomorph, the amber-skinned one. She had been distrustful of it to a fault. She had been, understandably, paranoid, and that got in the way of what she knew to be the facts of the situation.

That Xeno could have killed her whenever it wanted. It could have dragged her to the Egg Chambers of the Hive. It could have done a dozen different things to kill or harm her, up to and including a Head Bite. But it hadn't. Granted, it's behavior was odd, ambiguous, and of an unknowable motive, and that ambiguity was, admittedly, of a far greater concern. But the Alien had never shown any kind of violent inclination toward her. In fact, before she went unconscious... she was pretty sure that it had just been treating her wound! A while ago...

And what had she shown to _it_ in return? Complete and utter distrust and fear.

Many would have said that trust was wasted on a creature that understood only savagery and death. Well, if that had been the general consensus a few thousand years ago, Humanity wouldn't have tried to tame wolves and domesticate them into companions. It sometimes made Samantha wonder just how pivotal those few moments were- when those minorities of early peoples tried to reach out to another species. Those first interactions between hominid and canine must have required a lot of trust from both sides, even if one of them wasn't technically sentient.

But it was a well known fact _now_, that of all domesticated creatures, dogs were the ones who _understood_ Human beings the most on a fundamental level. Besides, there were breeds of dogs that had the intelligence of Human infants- perhaps more. Additionally… the Xenomorph species was an enigma. Most only knew the _basics_ about Xenos - their reproduction and their deadliness - and the supposed "experts" couldn't deduce much more about them. Who knew… maybe the Xenomorphs were smarter than people thought…

In any case… if this was one of those situations- when a potential connection between species could be made… then Samantha would have to try her best to make sure it went well… For a second or two, she seemed to be coherent enough to realize how utterly nuts she sounded.

Samantha didn't know if she was thinking this way because of her exhausted mind, or if she was just going insane.

Well! If she _was_, and she was speaking complete and utter nonsense, then at least she'll die with good intentions. Well… that or her intentions turned out to be the wrong ones and she ends up going to Hell for them. Like a medieval knight who _thinks_ that his killing sprees and body count are in the name of the Lord, but then he gets booted down to Hell and shouts, "wait, no! I didn't mean it!"… Samantha's mind must go to dark places, 'cause that was actually kind of grim…

* * *

It took two hours to locate that squad of Marines. They'd moved about a lot, trying to find the quickest route to the EVAC location they'd been given by USCMC/W-Y Command. Once Ryus caught up to them, he spent the next half-hour just watching, staying close. Funny thing, most of the group, other than the Synthetic and Wey-Yu Merc, had spent the entire time berating mister Gorm and giving him crap about his idiocy- the trigger-happy pillock he was! The man had nothing to give but excuses and very weak semantic arguments. Eventually Ryus had spent enough time around the squad, hiding in the vents, that he could start to just about hear their thoughts. That was when he'd decided that he was ready…

There was something he'd learned a while ago about communicating with Human beings. There was a brief period of time between "starting to hear their thoughts", and "being able to speak to them". During this time, the mental connection between brain-wave activity was weak- it was like two cell-phones trying to transmit to each other over a long distance. It was filled with "static", and "lag", which came in the form of a high-pitched keen that Ryus would feel in the back of his head. In order to be able to speak freely, he'd have to wait until said "keen" subsided and the connection became stronger. Which meant that a Human's delta brainwaves had to adjust to the same level as Ryus's.

But… if Ryus tried to speak _while_ there was still static - especially if he tried to form any _complex_ concepts into English - the result would be immediate and _very_ painful for the Human in question. It would cause a Human to experience an acute, and searing pain within their own skull. Their brainwaves would be getting overwhelmed, and thus the pain from it wasn't just a migraine- it was something that affected Humans right down to the psychological level. They _literally_ couldn't hear themselves think- their delta brainwaves were _completely_ disabled, it was like being struck "mentally deaf", but keeping all senses intact. Being completely unable to think (_at all_) reduced Humans to acting and thinking on a _purely_ instinctual level. And because of the pain within their heads due to all of it, more often than not, they'd react with fear and go into a frenzy.

Luckily for Humans, the affect would only last as long as Ryus (or any Scout) wanted it to. Ten seconds of this experience would only cause them to be stunned and mentally incapacitated. Any longer, and the side-effects would be chronic and temperamental.

So… when the squad of Marines stopped at one point… Ryus made his move. He'd suddenly, out of the blue, _blasted_ each of the soldier's minds with information of the unimportant variety, causing all of them to fall to their knees in agonized screams. Naturally, this gave Ryus the chance to kill the Synthetic, who had remained unaffected… and to avenge Samantha by tearing Private Gorm's head off!

Ryus immediately halted his telepathic assault on the squad, and left just as fast as he'd shown up.

Although… he'd made sure to carve the words "revenge solves everything" into the front of Private Gort's helmet before he got out of dodge…

* * *

**Say it with me: "Revenge Solves Everything"! It probably doesn't feel that way at the moment, but, there you go.**


	11. Chapter 10: … Solves Everything

**Okay. I know it's been a while. I _have_ a calendar. And I'm not going to make any excuses for my supposed lazy or tardy rate of production. I procrastinate, just like millions of other people. I _have other shit_ to do, just like millions of other people. I have a life outside of Fanfiction, just like millions of other people. So… yeah. Plus, my internet connectivity went offline for eight weeks. And I had two nasty fevers. And my mother had to go through multiple medical operations. She's fine.**

**In any case, I'm proud to present the latest chapter of _Σοφία (Sapience)_. Boy, I can't seem to go more than a few months without changing the title of this story, can I? If you don't remember much of the rest of he story, I'd suggest re-reading up to, and including this point.**

**Also, I'll be adding in indicators of who's perspective it is after each line-break. It'll be necessary.**

* * *

**Chapter 10: "… Solves Everything".**

**Ryus**

Ryus _would_ have spent some more time thinking on what just happened. You know- what with him tearing that Marine's head off of his torso like his neck was made of tissue paper. What was there _not_ to think about, after that? Example: the fact that Ryus had just gone out of his own way, and spent two hours of perfectly useful time, to go and kill a guy for the sake of avenging a person whom he didn't even know that well _could_ be a sign that all of his struggles - past or present - were now paying off in the manner he had wished. Oh!- Or! Or. Conversely, the fact that he now felt zero remorse whatsoever for killing that Private (was his name "Gort"?) could _possibly_ mean hat none of his endeavors had resulted in any desired effect. In a more practical perspective, there was the possibility of retaliation from those Humans to consider- how Ryus would deal with a squad of angry Colonial Marine soldiers.

So, yes, Ryus could have spent a good long while sitting around and contemplating all of this, following him slipping away from the still-disoriented squad of marines… if he hadn't realized something as he was jogging away down the corridor…

Ryus had spent the last two hours away from Samantha… after he had, pretty much, abandoned her… while she was recovering from a bullet wound… in an apartment that - while out of the way - was not _at all_ discrete or hidden enough to stop members of the Hive from finding her… plus she's comatose… with no protection whatsoever…

Thus: it did not come as a surprise when Ryus's thought on this matter was: _"… well, goddamn- that was an idiotic decision"_.

So, he immediately went sprinting back to where he thought the apartment was… until he got lost and had to backtrack… multiple times…

* * *

**Samantha, forty-five minutes later**

It had been 45 minutes after fully waking up from her debilitated stupor- sitting up and tossing the blanket that covered her off to the side of the bed. The first thing Samantha noticed was the fact that she was shirtless, with no clothing above the waist, except for a modest black bra. She was wondering what happened to it, until she sat up and noticed the shreds of white fabric all over the floor near the bed she was seated on. Her thoughts on the matter? _"Eh. The thing was old and covered in blood, anyway. I just hope there's some spare clothing still in this apartment"_.

The next thing to come to her attention was the itching sensation on her right arm- the reason for the shirt being torn to shreds. An oblong splotch of gray/black/beige material that could only be identified as Hive Resin. The stuff smelled of nothing and the naked, tanned skin surrounding the resin was red- irritated. Her upper-arm was, nearly, completely numb- save for the incessant itching sensation that permeated in and around the covered wound.

If Samantha had to guess, she'd say that she was having a minor allergic reaction to the Hive Resin. Before now, she thought that Hive Resin served no purpose other than a radical method of redecoration. But now, it seemed as though Xenomorphs use it as a painkiller and disinfectant. She seriously considered satisfying the ever-growing urge to scratch at the stuff- maybe peel it off and see how her wound was doing. But… she didn't know if doing so could end up being detrimental. More often than not, when it came to Xenomorphs, (or Weyland-Yutani, or the United Americas Allied Command [UAAC])… there was always _much more_ to _every little thing_\- no matter how seemingly negligible. It made her wonder where that particular Xeno went… the one who had, apparently, patched her up. Looking down to her right on the green carpet, she spotted the three, golden-colored bullets that were clawed out of her flesh, one at a time.

She had to wonder, one more time, why the Xenomorph with the amber hide had gone to such lengths, just to keep her safe. Or contained. It had to have fought off those Marines that had been about to take her in, dragged her, at _least_, a kilometer back to the apartments, and took care of her wound. She still wasn't 100% certain what to think of the creature, but she was sure of _one _thing. The "Amber Demon" would return, at some point. Exactly "when" was hard to say. But it would. Samantha could _feel_ it. And when it did come back to this apartment… well… she would at least… _try_ to be "civil"? If that could even be considered a viability.

Speaking of apartments, the one she was in now, seemed to be… lower in quality, than the last one she'd woken up in. Not that she was in any position to complain. She could tell immediately just from where she sat on the bed that it was a "Class B: Utilitarian Domicile"… so, "second class", if it were an apartment on a freighter. It was only a single room with a bed, and a bathroom and closet on either side. That being said, it definitely wasn't a hovel, by any description. Quite the opposite- it's walls and ceiling still retained the same golden "glow" and paint that one would expect from anywhere in the Apartments. Even if the bed was only medium-sized (barely enough for two people), it was still as comfortable as the day it's sheets were made. It was the kind of thing that one would stay in for less than a week - a pitstop, maybe - due to the lack of any kitchen or cooking utensils.

Looking down at her left leg, the one that had been bruised and swollen, she could see that, while the flesh was still enflamed and slightly puffed up, it's condition had improved regardless. It still retained it's persistent shade of saturated purple, but the previously red areas had turned back to the normal shade of tanned skin.

Samantha believed it high time that she search the apartment. There wasn't usually much worth taking in these Class B apartments, and if there was, those that had lived here had probably already taken it with them during the evacuation of New Scena. But, for the sake of possibly finding a spare shirt, Samantha was willing to try and look.

Now, mind you, she didn't _think _that the sight of her somewhat generous cleavage (she had, after all, managed to keep herself fairly well-fed throughout the infestation- _thank you very much_) would cause… "_negotiations_" with the Amber Demon to… "_deteriorate_"- but she didn't want to risk it. She'd seen/heard of people getting torn apart by (seemingly docile) Xenos for _weirder_ reasons (**_don't_** ask). Plus, the apartment wasn't really heated, and it was surprisingly chilly. So, yeah.

She scooted forward and sat at the foot of the bed. Keeping her hand on the bed to steady herself, Samantha slowly stood up, testing the stability of her leg. With only a slight wobble, at first, and a minor ache within the bone of her left shin, she became confidant that she could walk at least _somewhat _competently.

Immediately locating a wood-paneled door on the right side of the room, Sam walked toward the closet with a slight limp. She grabbed the small handle and yanked the door open. She was already expecting to find the storage space empty. However, in a fortunate turn of events, she was pleasantly surprised to see that her preconceptions were proven wrong. While the closet was _mostly _empty, Samantha found her eyes immediately gravitating to the one item on the single, chest-high shelf. A microwave-sized, clear, plastic, vacuum-sealed package containing what looked to be clothing… or, some variety of cloth.

It was hard to tell which, but Samantha didn't care- she'd already uttered the word "jackpot", with a grin, and quickly snatched up the package, bringing it back over to the bed. Since the word "airtight" didn't even _begin_ to describe just how tightly sealed the container was, it took Samantha a while (and a few chipped nails) to fully open the Goddamn plastic zipper which kept her from her prize. When the dusty packaging finally yielded to her will, she reached inside and yanked out the contents. Once she did… she became instantaneously ecstatic. A solid, jet-black tank top and… a scarf. Odd combination, but she wouldn't complain.

Standing up, Samantha held the top up to her chest to judge if it was around her size. The fabric felt similar to cotton and had a slight stretch to it- and, thanks to the package it was stored in, it was still as flexible and clean as the day it was stored away in the closet. Shrugging, she pulled it over her head to try it on, and it fit like a glove. An ever-so-slightly _tight_ glove which exposed about an inch of her midriff- but it fit and it looked good, so she was keeping it! Sitting back down, Samantha picked up the scarf that was held in a tight ball by a rubber band.

Having no crucial need for the thing, she did the first thing to come to mind and unraveled it. She then began meticulously wrapping the jet-black scarf around the wound on her arm- like a pseudo bandage. Samantha made sure to completely conceal the entire splotch of Hive Resin. Once done, she used the rubber band to overlap the "bandage" and keep it from going undone. This way, the itching sensation was mostly mitigated by being blocked from the open air.

Then… she waited. She sat, cross-legged on the bed and waited. The thought of leaving the apartment and running off on her own never crossed her mind. She was simply too curious about the Amber Demon to run away. She _knew_ it would return- _felt it_, even. Samantha couldn't explain it, but she was certain that when it came back… well- she had no idea. Precognition is impossible, after all. But… despite the growing anxiety that built up in her throat, Samantha had the odd feeling that she would have nothing to fear, in the end. Call it a woman's intuition. And a woman's intuition was _always_ reliable.

The sound of staccato foot-falls just outside the door and a nearly silent, alien pant reached her ears…

…and almost immediately, her esophagus felt like a vibrating rubber band- trepidation becoming king within her thoughts.

_Yeah, scratch that- "woman's intuition" my ass…_, Samantha gulped nervously.

* * *

**Ryus**

Ryus's breathing came in quick, ineffectual pants. He'd sprinted the entire way back to the apartment he'd left the girl in- backtracking and all. And now that he had arrived, lying down on his side in front of the _door_ to said domicile, he was… intrigued to see that he now had some good news and bad news. The good news was that the Human hadn't moved from her resting place, and he could detect no signs of any Hive-mates- not within the surrounding 80 meters, at least. The bad news? The female was awake and, seemed to be sitting on the bed. The shining blue light that was her heartbeat pulsated at a rate that indicated severe anxiety- she must have heard his approach.

_Oh… well, shit. That's a, uh… that's a complication_, he thought, impassively- remarking that his initial plan was to be present by the time she woke up and…

_Wait… why hasn't she run, yet?_

While Samantha was anxious and somewhat afraid… he could feel a growing sense of determination building within her mind. While there was no definitive descriptor for the emotions and thoughts that swirled like a vortex in the female's brain. But, if Ryus were to simplify all of it into a sentence that hardly did the "vortex" justice… he'd say that, while scared of the possible outcome, Samantha was determined to "confront" Ryus.

It seemed that _she_ was now the one "testing the boundaries" between them. And it would depend on Ryus's behavior how wide or thin these boundaries were.

It dawned on Ryus how severe this development was. He would have to draw on all of his past experience with humans- he'd have to make _every_ effort to ensure that he made a good impression with Samantha. If this would be the start of formalities between them, he would have to come across as benevolent as possible. Ryus had been thinking of how best to go about this inevitable situation. He'd considered almost everything, but still had details to iron out. He _knew_ that he should attempt to act as submissive as possible, for one thing- humans liked feeling as though they were in control. He stood up and took a long, deep breath. It was time to begin diplomacy.

It was time to say "hello".

Ryus rose up on his hind legs, his four-digited hand reaching toward the doorknob…

* * *

**Samantha**

Samantha heard the doorknob turn. The door was pushed inward 'till it hang ajar. Barely an inch of opening.

Well, it was definitely the Amber Demon. If it were any _other_ Xeno, she'd probably be bleeding out by now.

Despite her efforts in keeping her breathing even, it still came hot and heavy with anticipation. Her mind raced as fast as her heartbeat. Should she… straighten up? Sit forward a bit? Perhaps check or adjust her clothing? Or would that be seen as a hostile action? Wait- what is she even thinking about?! It's a Xenomorph, it doesn't!- uh… well… how _should_ she approach this situation? Would it be better to stay as she is, or should she be prepared to move in case all this faffery with the Xeno went sideways? Would doing so be a sign of weakness? Or would that be exactly what would work out- could acting weak _appease_ the creature?

Plus, would it be prudent to adopt a specific kind of posture? Could Xenomorphs pick up on or understand facial expressions? So many things to consider in so little time…

A small thump outside the door prompted her to hurry the Hell up, and before she knew it, she'd scooted forward to let her boots touch the carpet- hands on her knees.

_Hopefully, it's just as nervous as me…_, she thought- face set in stone.

The door inched open slightly…

* * *

**Ryus**

_Ha! "Nervous"? You have no idea…_

Ryus was making sure to pay special attention to the constant broadcasts from Samantha's mind- that way, if he made a misstep, he'd know almost immediately. Hopefully, he'd be able to correct himself before it became a problem.

He dropped back down to all fours. Taking a small step, he nudged open the door with his "snout". Ryus's lips were tightly sealed over his teeth- the gaps in the "straps" of muscle that made up his "cheeks" were enough to breath though, for now. He also made sure that his tail stayed plastered to the carpet, and not flailing about in every which direction. He didn't want to look like he was about to kill someone… ironic as that may seem..

The front-half of his head poked through the gap in the door, as his left arm did the same. Immediately he felt her eyes focus directly on his face, which Ryus found… uncomfortable.

He walked forward, shouldering the door, opening it further- about halfway. As he brought himself into the room, and oriented his head in Samantha's direction, he could hear her heartbeat increase. Which only increased further as his body turned to face her fully. In a subconscious fit of habit, his tail quickly pushed the door closed, behind him. He stood (with a somewhat "regal" posture) only seven feet from where she sat on the bed. If he wanted it, he could (literally) tear out the entirety of her esophagus faster than she could blink.

It was probably only due to the _Ancestral_'s recent apathy toward the human, that Ryus was able to resist doing so.

_Okay… so far, so good…_, he thought, cautiously. The _Unknown_ was pushing for him to greet her with a child-like enthusiasm. The _Ancestral_ was only _just_ starting to become agitated by the human's presence.

Ryus's mind was… empty. He honestly wasn't expecting that to be the case, but it was. He wasn't worried. His thoughts weren't racing. He just felt… concise. _Can_ one feel "concise"? Can that even be called an emotion? Or… would the more accurate way of describing it be… focused. Mentally clear. Calm. He knew what he had to do, and he knew what would happen if he didn't make it work. There was nothing else to really think about- all there was for him to do is… _it_. Just _do it_.

With nothing to stop him, Ryus took two slow, deliberate steps forward, ignoring the brief spike of fear that pulsed from the human's mind, until there was only a two foot space between Samantha's knee(s) and his head. Remembering what he had planned, his head bowed, neck bending downward- his chin was barely an inch above the floor. His left arm lowered 'till his elbow rested on the carpet, palm face down, while his right arm extended forward, but stayed upright. He hoped that doing this would convey a benevolent or… perhaps submissive message…

… it was a posture he'd only ever shown in the presence of his Queen…

_Here's hoping I'm not making a fool out of myself_.

* * *

**Samantha**

This was… _surreal_, to say the least!

Samantha's heart may have been beating at a rate that would have made it feel as though her ribcage was being vibrated to pieces- but she barely noticed it. She felt as though she was… she… it was like every fiber of her being had been sucked into her skull, and was supremely fixated on what her eyes were telling her. It _felt_ like her organs were weightless, and it _felt_ like there was a cold sheen of sweat layered over her entire body. Neither was actually true. In reality, all of the blood in her body was being diverted to her muscles, but, even then, to her it felt like it was all flowing to her head.

And… there was a… not a ringing, per se- not a pulsing or pain, but a… _silence_ in her head. It was like no outer sensation was being registered by her brain- every neuron and impulse was focused entirely on her vision. She felt deaf, yet hyper-aware at the same time.

And, all of it, naturally, could be attributed to the fact that _**THERE'S A FUCKING XENOMORPH STANDING TWO FEET IN FRONT OF HER!**_

Not only that, but the creature was… _bowing _to her! This- this is… this is just plain _Goddamn incredible!_ The sheer _absurdity_ of the current situation was _utterly_ laughable! If she told this story to anyone that didn't_ trust_ and _know_ her _explicitly_, she'd be sent to a _fucking_ insane asylum! Maybe not even then! That's just real!

Samantha wasn't sure how much time had passed, after the Amber Demon had, seemingly, "bowed" to her like she was royalty (her mind wasn't cognitively situated to track the passage of time). But, eventually, the gears of her brain began to slowly turn once more, and the very first thing that came to her… was the urge to reach out.

Before she could stop herself… her left hand loosened it's grip on her knee and idled forward…

* * *

**Ryus**

Ryus knew what she was thinking. And, frankly, he couldn't think of a better ice-breaker.

He waited for just the right moment… and stood up, taking half-step forward.

Samantha's open palm connected and flattened against what could be called Ryus's "upper-forehead". With the constant electric flow through the bones of her hand and wrist, it essentially created a "hand-shaped" blind-spot in Ryus's vision. It was… odd…

* * *

**Samantha**

… to touch the creature's head.

Samnatha released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. Just like that, with a simple touch, it was as though this… _pressure_ within her skull "popped", as she felt blood flow return to the rest of the body. A rush of warmth and slight euphoria. She couldn't help the tiny laugh that escaped along with that same pressure.

_Huh… so _that's_ how it is__…_, she mused.

For a few seconds she simply remained frozen, waiting to see if the Amber Demon did anything else. It didn't. It simply stood there with it's head pressed into her palm. Like a dog. Consequentially, the sudden thought of a Xenomorph playing catch and rolling over, asking for a belly rub, made Samantha audibly chuckle and grin. She took a deep breath, gaining more composure and realized that her hand had been absent-mindedly… well, "petting" the creature's domed-skull, rubbing back and forth in a slow, simple pattern. Almost as if it by instinct.

To her surprise… the creature's skull seemed to vibrate in a way that one could only equate to a cat's purr.

_So that's how it is__…_, Samantha thought, again, with a small smile as she came to the realization that… everything was "fine" between them! As she'd suspected, the Xenomorph held no ill-will against her, and a bit of effort on her part had payed off! But what to do now…

* * *

**Ryus**

When the female's hand began… "petting" Ryus's head, he, initially, didn't really know what to do about it. The contact wasn't really _unpleasant_ or _uncomfortable_, despite the _Ancestral _becoming decidedly squeamish, but he wouldn't say that it was… well, he was indifferent, he guessed.

Since he had no other ideas, and the _Unknown_ was throwing an ecstatic fit of joy, he did the only thing that really came to mind. The only thing that seemed to be a logical response.

Until right about now, he'd never had an actual word for it. "Purring". It was something that all newborns of his kind would do as they bonded with their Queen. It would be surprising to outsiders that Queens show affection to their children, but… they do. In fact, for the entirety of the first five days of any newborn's life, they'd spend day-in-day-out "snuggling" with mother. Ryus wouldn't have had any real explanation as to why a species of vicious, virulent, vociferous monsters would posses the instincts necessary for that sort of behavior. It just sort of… _happened_. It simply felt like a… _logical thing_ _to do_, at the time. Then again, Ryus barely remembered very much of his first week of conscious existence…

In any case, after about… oh, say… _thirty_ seconds of prolonged "petting", Ryus broke off the contact, sitting on his haunches. Despite not needing to, he made sure his skull was pointing vaguely at her face- it was for her benefit, since humans tend to get nervous when they don't have any clue as to a person's (or, more accurately, an "animal's") intentions/inclinations. From what he could hear… Samantha was reasonably _pleased_ with how well this interaction had turned out, so far! It appears that she'd had the same intention as him, going into this.

And he shared the same sentiment. Had he possessed a human face, he would have returned her current smile. Instead he would have to settle for letting out a small "chuff", at her… not sure if that would send the same message… She barely seemed to even mentally register it.

His on-going echolocation pulses were bringing near-constant "updates" as to the female's body language and facial expressions. If Ryus was reading both that, and her thoughts, correctly… her mood had shifted to something akin to fascination. Head titled to one side, eyes slightly narrowed. She was, understandably, curious about him.

Needless to say, the _Ancestral_ was doing the psychological equivalent of anxiously fidgeting…

_Now… why do I feel like I'm forgetting something?…_

It came to him as Samantha leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. Her wound.

It was wrapped in some variety of cloth… he couldn't smell blood, at least. And there was no scent of rotting flesh, so it wasn't infected. He should still check on it though… how to go about that?…

* * *

**Samantha**

The creature was sitting in front of her now, in a posture that was akin to a regal cat. It's tail had coiled into a tight spiral, next to the Demon's right leg. It reminded Sam of old nature documentaries about Komodo dragons that would coil their tails in a similar manner, as a warning. If said warning wasn't heeded, their tails would already be poised for use as a whip. She supposed that Xenomorphs use their tails for (sort of) the same reason. Except, less whipping, and more impaling.

The thought of "what happens now?" or "what's the plan?" hadn't yet occurred to Samantha- at the moment she was perfectly content with studying the creature before her. She'd never been this close to a Xenomorph before- at least… she'd never been this close, and wasn't running away. And she was the kind of person who watched nature documentaries for fun as a kid, as one could probably tell, so this wasn't an opportunity she was about to miss out on.

It wasn't until the creature's gaze (if you could call it that) shifted, and it's arm lifted to… point at… something… huh…

* * *

**Ryus**

Ryus decided to try something that would… _probably_ work? He wasn't sure if his physiology would get in the way, but it was his only real option for the moment. At least until he could find ways to safely communicate.

So, doing what he thought would convey the clearest message, he oriented his head toward Samantha's injured arm. He then lifted his left arm to point at the "bandage", and leaned on his right. His hand, which consisted of two fingers and two thumbs (each thumb on either side of his palm), attempted to mold itself into a "pointing" gesture. It looked a bit… odd, but it should get the point across.

The female frowned, tracked his finger, looked down at her bound-up wound, and looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. Her mind raced for a few seconds as she tried to figure out what he wanted. Ryus waited patiently, as he made "eye-contact" with her. Her left hand lightly grasped at the cloth coiled around her right arm, as she gave him a sideways look.

"… uuuhhh…", she said (if a noise can be considered a sentence), in confusion.

Ryus moved his pointing arm, and grabbed his upper _right_ arm with his left hand. His hand made a motion akin to pulling something off of the limb it had grabbed. The claws of the same hand then tapped against the flesh of the arm, which produced dull noise that sounded something like tapping a tree with a knife.

Samantha watched the demonstration keenly…

When Ryus let both of his arms drop to the floor, her injured arm raised up a bit as she leaned forward.

"You… want to look at my injury?", she said in slow, careful voice. She probably wasn't _trying_ to sound condescending, but he _did_ just demonstrate that he could mimc human behavior and was thus intelligent… unless animal mimicry isn't all that impressive in humanity's experience.

Nevertheless, he made a non-verbal acknowledgment of nodding and chuffing simultaneously.

She seemed surprised, but nonetheless began slowly unwrapping the makeshift bandage, keeping an eye on him. Standing by, Ryus hoped that she hadn't scratched off the Hive Resin, and thus sent out a few echoes to check the room for any discarded shards…

The strap of cloth (which the human's mind revealed to be a "scarf") came away and was dropped off to the left side of the bed. Samantha leaned forward, carefully extending her right arm, cautious to the point of paranoia while showing him the wound. Ryus was glad to see that the Hive Resin was still there, and had fully solidified into a brittle substance. The six-inch long, two inch wide splotch of… well, mucus (basically) had done it's job and the wound was healed.

_Ah… well that's that, then_, he thought. Ryus oriented his head to "look" to his right, feigning a loss in interest.

...

Ryus… had never felt "awkward" before. But right now? He, uh… he was starting to get it. The thing was… Samantha was _staring _at him. _Hard_. Even as she absent-mindedly began re-wrapping her wound with the scarf, her eyes never averted from… _raking _all across his form. The sensation of being _studied_\- being _evaluated_… it _really_ didn't sit well with him. He didn't know if this feeling of awkwardness was normal under the circumstances, or if it was a result his self-awareness, but either way… the human female not four feet from him was boring holes into his skin with her eyes, and _he didn't know how to **disengage the "interaction"!**_

He was about to literally start fidgeting, when a saving grace made itself known. Samantha's stomach rumbled, reminding him that she still hadn't eaten for the past two days.

_Oh, look! An excuse!_, he thought, immediately standing up and padding his way over to the door. Barring the need to escape Samantha's scrutiny, he _did_ actually need to find some food for her.

Just as he was about to stand upright and open the door, when the thought of the female following him crossed his mind. He could sense that she hadn't tried to get up. Ryus turned halfway to "look" at her, and raised a hand in a "wait" gesture. He didn't need her running around at the moment- he couldn't risk the possibility of being found by the Hive or losing track of her position.

Samantha… registered his signal and… did nothing. Her thoughts were, more or less, blank, but she seemed content to do as he "said". Ryus decided to take that as an "okay".

He turned away once more and stood on his hind legs, grabbing the door-handle and pulling the door open. He stepped out and fluidly shut the door behind him. Seeming to think about something, Ryus evidently came to some sort of decision and promptly began sealing the door with Hive Resin. With that precaution made, he began trotting down the hallway, hoping that the direction he was going in would lead him to food. Additionally, Ryus then decided to look for some variety of medical supplies as well- maybe some actual bandages or disinfectant. He still didn't know if the Hive Resin in Samantha's wound could end up being detrimental to her health, or not… best not chance it.

As he scanned his surroundings… Ryus couldn't help but feel relieved. Not just that he'd managed to escape that uncomfortable scrutiny… but that the air had essentially been… "cleared" between him and the human.

* * *

**If anyone's confused, a Xenomorph's hand would be like… well, imagine that you didn't have a middle finger, then imagine that your pinky finger was moved to be next to your wrist, and thus was opposite of your original thumb. It's basically like the Sangheili from _Halo_. Or Glacius from the newest _Killer Instinct_.**

**The point is, Xenomorph hands are tetradactyl in nature. Two thumbs, two fingers. Despite any evidence that you may have seen to the contrary- looking at _you_, Alien: Isolation. I believe any deviations from tetradactyl to be the result of mutations. Yes, even Xenomorphs can be subject to genetic mutation- when you have an organism that splices it's DNA with that of it's host, there's bound to be occasional complications. I believe mutation to also be responsible for a _lot _unique Xenomorph traits. The Raven from Colonial Marines, the Lurker from Alien: Isolation, the appearance of a human skull in some Drones and Lurkers, the fact that some Xenos are smarter than others- a bunch of stuff.**

**If you know anything about genetics and the process of meiosis, DNA replication, and mitosis, you'll probably agree that random genetic mutation is responsible for these types of things.**


	12. Chapter 11: Glory to the Collective!

**Weren't expecting this so soon, were you?**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Glory to the Collective!**

It was odd, really… how often that one man's burden- one man's _tragedy_ can turn into _another_ man's fortune- a benefit, or advantage. It was odd how, even as the lives of many innocents and citizens are snuffed out or devastated down on the planet below… he and his people seemed content to just… sit, watch, and eventually contribute to the chaos.

For, objectively, that was all that his Clan (and other Clans) ever seemed to _do_ in the grand scheme of things. Find ikthala-de **(1)** disasters of extreme magnitude, observe what happens, then conduct a hunt. "For the glory of the Clan!", and such. Whether conducting controlled hunts, or taking advantage of some random crisis, it always ended up as a contest between Clans, and sometimes between different hunting parties _within_ a Clan, to see which "team" would earn the right to tell the most grandiose tales of honor and skill.

Yet, at times like this, Yak-a'Shen **(2)** believed himself to be the only one who thought about these circumstances from the perspective of the ones who were, extensively, suffering. In all of the rush to investigate these kinds of disasters, and in all of the talk about honor and trophies… it felt as though everyone was forgetting that the sentient beings responsible for _creating_ these incidents were even still there. That they too had a clear and, in this case, rather large stake in the chaotic happenings of this infestation.

Except the difference was that, for the Clan, the worst that could go wrong was for a highly respected hunter to be killed in a less-than-reputable fashion- or for Yautja technology to be stolen.

But for the Oomans, fighting and dying at the hands of the R'ka **(3)** legions… they were fighting for their very survival. The fight may be limited to deciding the state of this single planet, but Yak-a'Shen did not believe that to be a significant distinction to the Oomans.

Whenever the topic of the Pyode Admeha were brought up (as their existence in the galaxy wasn't _often_ mentioned, seeing as though the Yautja race's involvement with them was extremely singular in purpose and intention), Yak-a'Shen always ended up fighting himself within his own head about them. On the one hand, he found the fact that Oomans only ever fought if absolutely necessary, and never for pleasure or sport, distasteful, as he was inclined to.

He was Yautja, after all. Nracha-dte a' Dtai'kai-dte, Ch'hkt-a r'a Kv'var, s' N'jauka-na i' Thei-de **(4)**.

And whenever Oomans _did_ decide that combat was necessary, it was almost always a tiny fraction of their population- and the battles were surrounded with pretext and subtext of all manner of different societal developments. It was never anything _simple_, with Oomanity. It was all controversy and accusations and philosophy and social commentating…

Even their violent games had no real _bite_ to them- none of the combatants ever seemed to die or _lose anything_, apart from esteem.

Then again… one the other hand, Yak-a'Shen knew that there was some justification to the ways of the Pyode Admeha. Oomans, as can be observed by anyone that hunts them, have an intrinsic aversion to bloodshed and violence- it was simply part of their nature. Even their toughest warriors suffer from adverse effects long after battle- regardless of any actual injuries, whether they get injured or not. Even when an Ooman becomes consumed by bloodlust, rage, fear, and adrenaline - one of the very things that made them as dangerous as they are - they are not guaranteed to walk away from any victory without mental damage. They simply don't gain satisfaction from killing an assailant or enemy. Any Ooman that _does_ is regarded as mentally insane- a Bad Blood in their society.

_Yet, they still fight…_, Yak-a'Shen mused.

The real difference between an Ooman "soldier" and a Yautja warrior, is that the Ooman doesn't kill for fun or for bringing glory to their Clan, or… "Nation" as the case may be. The Ooman won't be interested in collecting trophies from battle fields and remembering their past exploits. No- more often than not, they fight because their fellow man is brought in harms way. They fight to protect their loved ones. They fight to defend the honor of their… nation due to an ingrained sense of… "patriotism". Those last two might apply to the Yautja as well, but it is so rare that Clans fight each other in this age, that all of it is limited to hunting and competition, at this point.

When an Ooman takes up a weapon, he doesn't do it for personal honor. He does it knowing that he could very well end up being killed- he does it to fulfill a duty. And in Ooman society, death is considered an, overall, bad thing with no actual value. To put oneself in life-threatening situations, despite there being no benefit involved, and all for the sake of others is… oddly humble.

The only question now is that… which is better: to be born with the knowledge and mindset ready for combat and death, or to fight despite there being no upside for oneself?

It brought Yak-a'Shen back to an old internal debate that he occasionally thought about. He couldn't decide if the Yautja race was collectivist or individualist. If they placed more value in the interests of the entire consensus, or if they held an individual's will and interests above governmental control. One could argue that, since half of the point of engaging in large-scale conflicts is to bring glory to the Clan, that the Yautja were collectivists. But, adversely, Yautja society also placed high importance in the honor and progression of individuals. It was why, if you were honorable and had become a notable figure, you would be considered more trust worthy than another who is less so.

… Yak-a'Shen's heart almost sped up in dread as a _new_ idea made itself known. An idea that would undoubtedly set off another tirade of debate. "But is trustworthiness based on honor _fair_?".

_Ugh… _pauke-de_ idiotic brain!_, **(5)** he groaned internally.

These were simply a few of the many things which commonly plagued Yak-a'Shen's thoughts. It never really interfered with his position as Clan Elder, but he still wondered if other Elders had similar internal conundrums. Then again, Yak-a'Shen himself was surprisingly young for being an "Elder", so maybe his little one-man-debate was simply the thinking of an eccentric young one… not that such a possibility was, in any sense, favorable.

A small, sharp pain in his hand caused Yak-a'Shen to snap back to reality. He looked down and saw that he had drawn blood from his own palm. Adding another scar to an, already impressive, collection of similar injuries on the same limb. He supposed that that's what he got for philosophizing, when he should have been working for the past… how long had he been sitting on his chair?

Yak-a'Shen spun on his seat, swiveling around to look at one of the technicians operating on a console. He knew that he probably shouldn't interrupt any of the bridge's operators, as one simple mistake can send the entire ship into a catastrophe, but he still had to know. Besides, this particular technician was more skilled than to allow such a thing to befall the vessel.

"Arané-us", **(6)** he called out.

The technician he had addressed typed in a short series of commands on the crimson screen before him, prior to turning toward Yak-a'Shen.

"Yes, Clan Leader?", the skinny, green-skinned male asked.

"How much time has passed since I walked onto the bridge and sat on my command chair?", Yak-a'Shen inquired, raising an eye-ridge, and leaning forward, slightly.

The male's head tilted to the side in confusion for a scant few seconds, before he replied impassively, "approximately seven and a half Units, sir" **(7)**.

Yak-a'Shen silently turned back to face his own crimson monitor, bracing his chin on one palm. He didn't stop to see that Arané-us returned to his station, knowing that he would. Besides… he now had a problem. A pauk-na _big_ one. He was supposed to have been coming up with some next course of action, this entire time. The entire ship was relying on him to take advantage of the crisis on the planet below and help to earn glory for the Lar'ja'Kte **(8)** Clan. Yak-a'Shen's mandibles clicked together in thought, as the fingers of his left arm drummed against the arm rest. His eyes studied the information in front of him on the monitor.

The R'ka infestation had reached the point at which there multiple Royal Guardians of the Queen. The size of the Hive had spread across multiple Ooman "cities". Approximately… 55 "kilometers" in diameter, at this point. This Hive was even bigger than the one that Yak-a'Shen had been sent into with his brother, the day that he cleansed a Hive and earned his title as "Elder". What's more is, the Ooman military had completely blockaded the outside of the infestation, and were sending their warriors into the Hive regularly- the fools.

No other Clans had been informed of the infestation on this planet, so there were no other Clan Ships to compete with in this solar system. He could take a certain amount of time in deciding what to do about this.

So, Yak-a'Shen asked himself: "what would be the most unlikely, the most impressive, and most outrageous story that could be told about this hunt?". What would make people's mandibles go slack in awe? What would solidify the Lar'ja'Kte Clan's place as one of the most successful and powerful in the galaxy? What would make his leadership skills sound the most impressive?

Yak-a'Shen's mandibles clenched together concentration, hand stroking his chin.

Slowly his eyes began to widen as an idea quickly began to form in his mind. He leaned forward as his excitement kept building.

_Yes… yes, it could very well work! Yes! **Yes!** Oh, _this_ is going to be _fun, he thought, a Yautja grin pulling at his mandibles, as his tusks clicked together.

He played the scenario over in his mind, nodding to himself as it kept sounding better by the second. He would send in a single man to kill the R'ka Queen, and her Guards! It would have to be one of high enough rank that it wouldn't be impossible, but a small enough reputation that the feat wouldn't be brushed off as "mundane". Then, after the Queen and her entourage were eliminated, the rest of the warriors aboard the ship could engage. They may even be able to conduct a few Kiande Admeha Chivas! Bring a good portion of their Unblooded up in general standing!

But who to send into the Hive alone?

…

Yak-a'Shen already knew the answer to that. An old friend who was much more skilled than he or his rank would let on. An Elite, Veteran Ki'cti-pa N'yaka-de **(9)** named "Zazin-Vor'mekta". He would get the job done. Yak-a'Shen knew better than to doubt Zazin-Vor'mekta's skill- to do so would give cause for Yak-a' to be called a hypocrite.

The Elder was about to press the button on the monitor in front of him that would allow him to address the entire ship and call Zazin' up to the command bridge, but hesitated. Should he go and talk to the Veteran himself? Perhaps having Zazin-Vor'mekta's excursion down to the Hive be a secret would help in some way… it would certainly keep the Young Bloods from swarming the man with questions. Yak-a'Shen leaned back in his chair, mandibles clenched in thought, brow furrowing as he debated internally.

_Then again… this will be the first time that I'll have given him an order… and since he's older than me… ugh- not looking forward to something that... _odd_. I _already_ feel awkward enough wearing this cape, when half of the ship's warriors are old enough to be my sire_, he thought.

… maybe he should just make an announcement over the ship's intercom… but seeing as though this is the first order Yak-a'Shen will have given to Zazin-Vor'mekta, should he not go and do so in person- at least as a show of respect? Just to make it clear that he didn't think himself to be greater than the man- despite the fact that Yak-a' was higher in rank. Or would it be better to treat the assignment as something mundane and make it known to the ship for the sake of professionalism?

Eventually, Yak-a'Shen stood up and went to find the Veteran.

* * *

Yak-a'Shen had had to ask for directions to Zazin-Vor'mekta's room. As odd as that sounds, a Clan Elder being unable to navigate his own ship. But, as it stands, Yak-a' had only been on this Hunting Ship for less than a week, and had only needed to leave the Command Bridge **_twice_**. He also hadn't needed to memorize where every member of the hunting party kept their things or slept- he doubted that _any_ Elder would.

In any case, he approached the door to where Zazin-Vor'mekta resided… he began to hear a strange noise emanate from the inside the room…

It sounded like some variety of music, but he'd never heard anything like it, before. It certainly wasn't a Yautja war chant. Nor was it an Arcturian melody or River Ghost duet. Not an Amengi chorus, either. Could it be something that the Hish-Qu-Ten made? But the chances of it being from the Hish was slim, since the Hish speak the exact same language as the Yautja **(10)**. And _this_ music was… definitely not of Yautja/Hish origin. It's instrumentals were loud, powerful, and aggressive, yet the foreign voice mixed in was oddly… melodic and smooth. A very strange, very… _effective_ combination.

Since this Hunting Ship was of an older model, what with metal, crimson-bronze floors, walls, and ceilings - along with vapor from excess artificial atmospheric emissions layering the ground, obscuring the floor from sight - the walls did less to block out noise between rooms. Thus, Yak-a'Shen was able to easily listen to the strange music filtering through the door before him. Which made him all the more curious.

Temporarily distracted from his ascension-guilt, Yak-a'Shen raised a fist and knocked on the metal door thrice. The music almost immediately stopped (just when Yak-a' could have sworn he'd recognized a word or two, just then), leaving only the sound of muffled footsteps. A few seconds later, the door slid open, to reveal Zazin-Vor'mekta, donning his Vy'drach-hide, armored suit… for some reason.

And, Yak-a'Shen immediately felt out-of-line, again. Not only was one as young as himself wearing a cape- a sign of his (technically) "well-deserved status", but… well, he… the guy was just so much **taller** than him! Zazin' stood at _least_ a Nok **(11)** higher than Yak-a'Shen's comparatively small height of 6 Noks, and a half. Probably even more. And while Zazin' may appear to be somewhat lanky - especially when compared to Yak-a'Shen, who had a stockier, more solid build - this skinniness belied physical strength that could rival that of a R'ka Royal Guard! Granted, Yak-a'Shen could do much the same, but the feat was still more impressive when one doesn't even appear to have that much muscle on them.

Even now, the metal, bronze, full-body set of armor worn by Zazin-Vor'mekta was sleek, and streamlined… yet also covered with various scratches and collateral damage that only served as a reminder of how much more experience that Zazin' had.

And now, here Yak-a' was, thinking to give orders to one of the most experienced Ki'cti-pa N'yaka-de's in the Lar'ja'Kte Clan, when he himself only had about half as many trophies as the Yautja before him. A Yautja who, despite being a lot older, was supposedly on a lower rank than Yak-a'! And to think- it wasn't so long ago that Yak-a'Shen was but a Young Blood, and was receiving life-advice from the very Yautja that stood before him. Yak-a'Shen… the so-called "Elder", the so-called "Clan Leader"… could not help but feel like a pretender when people like Zazin' and beyond would be more capable of the job.

Yak-a'Shen had already prepared for what he suspected would come next. He didn't believe that Zazin-Vor'mekta would remember meeting Yak-a' before. Other than having to explain _that_, Yak-a'Shen supposed that he would possibly mistake him for one of the Ship's Young Bloods, or perhaps not believing that Yak-a' was a Clan Leader. Which would inevitably warrant an impromptu showcase of the three R'ka Queen skulls in Yak-a'Shen's quarters- as well as the four Royal Guard skulls and twenty, or so Matured R'ka Sain'ja **(12)** skulls.

All of that was… until the next six seconds happened…

The Yautja before him suddenly stood a bit straighter. Not exactly "standing at attention" or "saluting"- not the way that an Unblooded was expected to do in the presence of their superiors. But instead, simply… showing some degree of… _respect_. Even the Yautja's voice and tone was inoffensive, as he, almost immediately, said, "Oh! Clan Leader. I wasn't expecting you. Are you in need of my services?".

Yak-a'Shen had never been outright insulted or disparaged before, due to his unusually high rank. The most he'd ever received were arrogant remarks from a Young Blood, whom he quickly punched in the throat in order to shut the little bastard up. One could say that he really had nothing to "fear", by doing his job and commanding the way an Elder should. But, for some reason, after Zazin-Vor'mekta addressed him with such deference, and not just a grumbled "yes, sir?"… he suddenly felt a lot better- more… confident. He somehow felt as though he'd just been injected with a Medicomp- a certain… jolt of energy. "Galvanized", one could say.

Accordingly, Yak-a'Shen suddenly found himself straightening up, hands going behind his back, and speaking in his "Elder voice", a curt, yet impassive, _official_ tone.

Yak-a' began to speak, not putting any particular thought as to what he would say, "Zazin-Vor'mekta, I was only made aware of your presence on this Hunting Ship two days ago".

Yak-a'Shen quickly continued, gesturing vaguely, "I wanted to speak to you, but could not find an opportunity until now".

The Ki'cti-pa N'yaka-de nodded silently, crossing his arms.

"Ah. I see- there must have been some variety of error in the computers, it may not have properly registered my transfer to this Hunting Ship… ", he said, trailing off. Something seemed to occur to the male, as his head tilted to one side, looking away for a split-second, before he asked, "do I… know you from somewhere, sir? You seem… familiar".

Yak-a'Shen's voice took on a slightly awkward cadence, gaze shifting downward, as his feet shuffled on the spot, saying, "uh, yes, we, uhm, we _have_ met before- though back then, I was but a Young Blood on Yautja Prime… you, uh… ", he brought his eyes back up to Zazin''s Bio-Mask.

"You were giving me and my fellow Unblooded- ", he suddenly paused, squinting as he second-guessed himself, "well, _at first_ it was a lecture… then it turned into a full-on training session… and then you somehow managed to cook up an impromptu 'pseudo-tournament'- to see which one of us could beat you one-on-one". Yak-a'Shen's voice shined with a small amount of mirth at the memory, a grin pulling his mandibles. The faintest sound of a chuckle could be heard.

Zazin-Vor'mekta's head recoiled in obvious surprise, his waist-length plaits swaying with the movement, "oh, of course! I remember that, now! I was doing a favor for the Matriarch of that village and decided to try my hand at teaching", he remarked at length while nodding, clearly fond of the memory.

Yak-a''s mandibles flexed in surprise, brow raising, "a favor? What for?", he asked, now curious.

Zazin' shifted his weight onto his left leg as he began to explain, "oh, I wanted to purchase an old Plasma Glaive from her. It once belonged to her sire, and she wanted it to be used by an Elite, in honor of his memory, but, at the same time, she also wanted something in return for my taking it. So, instead of money, she had me pay for the Plasma Glaive by… ", he waved his hand in a brief, vague gesture (perhaps thinking of the words), "… **_doing something_** for her village", he said. Yak-a'Shen nodded in understanding.

"So, not knowing what else to do, I went ahead and decided to train the Young Bloods", he finished, shrugging.

Yak-a'Shen hummed musingly, "it was used by her father? Must be an antique!", he remarked with a small chuckle, wondering how such an old weapon could still be used effectively.

Zazin-Vor'mekta gestured vaguely off to his left as he responded, "well the thing was, he only managed to purchase a Plasma Glaive at the very end of his life. The man was so old at the time that he dropped dead mere minutes after coming home with the thing", he said, shrugging again, his tone colored with a hint of morbidity.

He continued, "it was in mint condition by the time I received it. I've only managed to use it four or five times, so far, though… ", he explained, trailing off while shaking his head, his voice showing a hint of sudden annoyance.

Yak-a'Shen nodded silently- slowly, suddenly remembering his reason for coming here. After a few moments of relative silence, he spoke…

"You may get to use it, again, soon… ", he stated.

* * *

Yak-a'Shen nodded to Zazin-Vor'mekta as the hatch to the tyioe-ti **(13)** folded upward and sealed closed. A glass shield quickly sealed over doorway to the small escape vessel, stopping the vacuum of space from touching the insides of the ship as the tyioe-ti ejected from it's cradle. The one-man vessel's thrusters activated, and Zazin' was quickly being propelled down to the surface of the planet below.

He had listened to Yak-a''s plan, and liked the sound of it. The Elite gathered what equipment he'd need (his Plasma Glaive, a Plasma Caster, a few Proximity Mines, and a Scimitar **[14]**) and departed immediately.

As Yak-a'Shen walked back to the Command Bridge and sat on his chair, he wondered if his plan would prove to be… flawed. He wondered if he was sending Zazin-Vor'mekta to his doom- if he was wrong…

_… no. Surely not. Zazin' himself agreed with the plan. Besides, it was his decision to go down there- if he _does_ get killed… well, at least they can't say that I ordered him to do something suicidal. __After all… I never _gave_ an "order"_, he thought, mandibles clicking as he stared out at the void.

* * *

**(1) "Cataclysmic".**

**(2) I took this name from the word "Yaksha". The first person to define it gets a cookie.**

**(3) "R'ka" is the name that the Yautja have for Xenomorphs. While they do use the phrase "Kiande Admeha" for them as well, it's also used to describe other creatures, since it literally means "Hard Meat". Kind of like how they call Humans, both "Ooman" and "Pyode Admeha", even though the second one means "Soft Meat".**

**(4) Rough translation of "Relentless in Battle, Excited for the Hunt, and Welcoming of Death".**

**(5) "Pauk", "Pauk-na", or "Pauk-de" is a general expletive.**

**(6) Taken from the French word for "spider".**

**(7) I came up with "Units" on a whim, since I couldn't find any measurement of time in Yautja.**

**(8) Rough translation of "Dark Blade". Those of you who bother to do extensive research will know that the Dark Blade Clan is the one in which Scar, Celtic, Chopper, and Scarface are in. And, no, this isn't for any particular reason, I just don't really want to make up some arbitrary, made-up "clan" simply because this is fanfiction.**

**(9) "Spear Master".**

**(10) If anyone's wondering why I'm referencing the atrocity known as _"Predator: Forever Midnight"_, it's because I find the idea of the Amengi's existence and enslavement to the Super Predators perfectly acceptable. I also believe that "Hish-Qu-Ten" should be the "name" of the Super Predators. Given how it allegedly means "people who take territory", it seemed to fit with the "Super Predator M.O".**

**(11) A "Nok" is a unit of measurement, roughly equivalent to thirteen human inches.**

**(12) "Sain'ja" means "warrior".**

**(13) "Escape Pod".**

**[14] Note, "Scimitar" does not mean a hand-held sword. It was seen in the AVP movie- it's basically a longer, thicker ****wrist blade which can't retract inside of one's gauntlet.**

**So… the Yautja are finally here! Hurrah! That's a thing! Though, in all seriousness, I'd like to get something off of my chest.**

**The process of writing this story has not been nearly as… smooth as I'd hoped it would be. That's to be expected, though, yes? That I'd still be finding my feet as a writer? But that doesn't change the fact that all of this has made me… disillusioned. _Σοφία_** **isn't nearly as popular as I would have believed (though, I'm still grateful for the amount of attention it _has_ garnered). I mean- what did I expect? It's FanFiction- half the reason people even come here is for pairings and smut. Additionally, there are multiple things _about_ this website, and my time here, that I… just plain _regret_.**

**But above all… the experience here hasn't been _as_ rewarding as what one might think.**

**Don't get me wrong- I'm still finishing this story, and I'm still going to be here on FanFiction. I just… there's something _missing_ about all of this, you know? I'm _almost_ tempted to take down this story, then re-upload it in a cleaner state. Maybe go back and continue to improve previous chapters… for the sake of posterity.**

** \- By my now hand, _Archo_.**


	13. Chapter 12: LCESQ

**Be prepared.**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Listen Closely, for the Earth Shall Quake**

In the span of forty minutes, Ryus was able to find, both, a first-aid kit and a small plastic bag which contained four apples. He'd found the first in what he could only assume used to be a free clinic. He found the latter inside of a fridge. As far as he could tell, the abandoned grocery store in which the fridge resided was still wired into a privately-owned back-up generator, which granted the immediate area some limited use of electricity. Whereas, the rest of the Commercial District had... spotty electric power, at best.

He'd been able to find these items so quickly, because the apartment in which he'd left Samantha in was a lot _closer to_ said Commercial District. Thus, the trip to and back from there was fairly short.

As it was now, Ryus was walking down a hallway of the Apartments, the plastic-cased first-aid kit in his jaws, the plastic bag of apples impaled and hanging from his tail-blade as he held it aloft. He was _pretty sure _that the direction he was walking in was that of the apartment that Samantha resided in. Hopefully, she was still there.

Ryus had been thinking of what to do after he got back to Samantha and sorted out the wound on her arm- got rid of the Hive Resin and patched it up properly. He supposed he would do his best to make sure that her leg got healed up. They would need to move quickly, in order to find a way off of Guardian-625. How exactly he would get that goal across to her was a mystery to him. And whether or not Samantha would agree to go with him, should he convey his intentions, was also up for debate.

At times, it annoyed him that he had to be the "oddball" of his Hive. That he couldn't simply remain utterly transfixed on the needs and goals of the moment, like his Hive-mates. No, instead he had to think rationally and constantly ponder the implications of various turns of events, as well as planning ahead for future possibilities. It was causing him no small amount of stress- stress that _could_ be considered needless, but which he had to deal with anyway.

As Ryus padded down the hall at a semi-brisk pace, head and tail held up in a regal fashion, with his claws leaving minute scratches in the carpet, what he knew to be Samantha suddenly became visible in the distance. Her heart, a feint but clear, blue beacon in an endless ocean of nothingness that he perceived to be the world. His only reference point for things like distance, volume, and depth perception being his echolocation.

As he'd hoped, she had stayed within the apartment, but appeared to be... doing "pushups" on the floor... then she began doing "crunches", as Ryus continued to close the distance between himself and the apartment.

_Alright, then, I guess she got bored of waiting_, he thought, impassively.

He wondered if Samantha's go-to response to boredom was to workout, or if it was simply the only option available to-

He abruptly stopped walking.

In the next moment, Ryus's amenable mood was promptly put to an end. His thoughts immediately began to become encapsulated with dread and alarm. He could feel his heart begin to pump blood at an accelerated pace, his veins suddenly burning. Had he possessed eyes, they would have gone wide in shock, as a second "beacon" emerged from the infinite black fog that served as the limit to his senses. A very bright, very large signal of electroreception that could only come from one thing, with the way it was moving so quickly towards what appeared to be it's destination...

A Hive-mate was making it's way to Samantha.

It was sprinting on all-fours down the same hallway wherein Ryus walked. On their current paths, both him and the Xenomorph had a straight, face-on trajectory towards the apartment that the human female was in- completely oblivious to the incoming threat.

If Ryus did not hurry, Samantha would be dead within the next five minutes. And if Ryus intervened, he would make himself a clear and present target for the Hive.

He had a decision to make. Saving Samantha would be a blatant affront to Mother's wishes, and the directive of the Hive as a whole. It would also, undoubtedly, call for acidic blood to be spilled. Either from him, or from this Hive-mate. As it stands, Ryus still had other options. He could simply stop moving- simply stay where he was and allow for the female to be slain. The Hive-mate and Mother would believe he had no involvement, and he could find a way off of Guardian on his own.

_The Unknown_ protested the latter course of action heavily. Not that it needed to. Ryus's decision had already been made, and he knew it. _The Ancestral_ was silent.

The thin, plastic box in Ryus's mouth dropped to the floor as the spot he occupied was left vacant- his form already moving at full sprint down the hallway. The bag of apples fell to the floor a second later.

Ryus charged toward the invading Hive-mate with a fervor and effort that he rarely exerted, causing him to snarl and pant with each bound. His spine and tail straight as a broad, as his legs and feet were reduced to mere lightning-fast blurs beneath him. The image of the Xenomorph in front of him, which was previously but a dot on the horizon, quickly grew in size as he closed the distance. Before three seconds had passed, Ryus had built up speed that could rival a predatory bird, and had already halved the distance to the apartment.

The invader had stopped running and was just about to stand to it's full height in front of the door.

It was but two more seconds before Ryus was within range of the invader (a female Soldier).

Not wasting a single newton of energy, he leaped forward- his form a mere flash of amber that soared over a distance of more than twelve feet. His right arm was brought backward, as his left tucked itself against his side.

He brought his right arm into a swing.

When Ryus's closed fist slammed into the side of the Soldier's skull in a downward arc, (his precision in the feat worthy of more than a few accolades) it did so with the force of a speeding car. A high-velocity sledge-hammer blow that would send the Soldier into an impromptu flight. The hit wouldn't be enough to instantly shatter the female Soldier's skull, but it came pretty close.

Almost as if with practiced ease, Ryus's legs came forward - naught more than a second after his hand had struck - and kicked, impacting the Soldier's ribs and "kidney-area" with a visceral ***crack***. Both, allowing him to push the Soldier back even further, and stopping him from going down _with_ the Xenomorph due to his momentum. Instead, Ryus dropped to the floor on his back, in front of the door to the apartment.

A painfully loud screech of surprise and shock came from the Soldier as she was sent tumbling across the floor of the hallway, limbs flailing in every which direction.

Ryus immediately rolled to his feet just as the Soldier managed to halt it's momentum, and started getting back up. She would be dazed, and confused. Normally, Ryus would not have hesitated, and would have taken advantage of the female's current disorientation. But he had something he had to do, first. Ryus stomped forward on his two hind legs, with a deliberate, and brisk pace.

Just as the Soldier stood to her full height and saw him, Ryus was already standing directly in front of her.

The Soldier in front of him was alarmed and confused- it did not smell any hostile scents, and therefore did not know where the attack had come from. Ryus patiently waited for his presence to be properly registered by her. She was slouched over and had started drooling at the fact that there was an obvious threat somewhere in the area. But her tail was lashing about in a manner which could only entail extreme confusion.

Her left hand was hovering over the right side of her ribcage. It's claws faintly ghosting over the service of her exoskeleton before retracting in what looked to be pain. Ryus must have broken one of her ribs with that kick of his.

Eventually, it must have finally clicked in the Soldier's head that _Ryus_, the Hive-mate in front of her, was responsible for her injury. He could tell because she suddenly became extremely still- even her tail froze in the air and stiffened abruptly. He imagined that such a conclusion was inconceivable to her. And because it confused her, it scared her. The thought of a Hive-mate brazenly attacking another Hive-mate was utterly absurd, in this female's mind. Ryus knew this because thoughts and feelings of distress and internal crisis were being (rather loudly) broadcasted from her head. She began to slowly step backwards. He simply advanced, not allowing any distance between the two of them.

Now that Ryus could get a closer look... he _knew_ this Soldier. She was at least three months old, with small spines running down the length of her skull. She was at least seven inches taller than Ryus, and was much more bulky-looking, given her Caste. Ryus remembered her because he'd once been assigned to watch over her as she molted from her Newborn state- due to the majority of the Workers in the Hive being busy with constructing an underground tunnel. He'd once given her the nickname "Gangshi".

She didn't seem to remember _him_, though...

Almost as soon as Gangshi began backing away from him, Ryus felt a familiar buzzing sensation within his skull. A feeling that once brought him some semblance of comfort, now only brought feelings of derision and paranoia. Mother had noticed, just as he knew she would.

_"Ryus!"_, he heard her scream at him, through the link. He'd never heard her deliberately "raise" her "voice" before, least of all in English. She usually just screamed her head off whenever she got pissed. He had to wonder why she was suddenly putting in an effort to sound animated, now, when on any other occasion, she'd do the bare minimum and end up sounding utterly robotic.

Ryus bared his teeth at Gangshi, knowing that Mother was using the Soldier as a medium through which to view him, "_make this quick, Mother"_, he responded, curtly, his tail raising over his shoulder.

A wave of overbearing shock and anger pulsed through the Hive-mind, _"why did you attack your sister?!"_, she demanded.

It was then that Mother's focus suddenly shifted toward the fact that there was a human being not twenty feet away.

_"Capture that human and return to the Hive. Immediately"_, the Queen ordered. Ryus wasn't sure if she was simply temporarily overlooking his act of aggression, or if the presence of the human was truly _that_ distracting to her. But it didn't matter.

_"I'm afraid I cannot do that, my Queen"_, Ryus stated impassively. _"That human is off-limits"_.

Feelings of shock from Gangshi, and unexpected rage from Mother made themselves known to him.

_"What is this?!"_, she demanded, a bit dumbly, apparently not figuring it out, yet. The pillock.

It was only then that Ryus allowed his previously restrained feelings of contempt for Mother and the Hive to filter through the telepathic link, as he replied to her query. _"Do me a favor,_ Mum_...__"_, he mentally spat.

_"Don't bother trying to call me again. I'm done with you- _and_ the Hive. You have nothing left to offer me"_, he said with finality, teeth bared, as he "cut" the mental link that had been established through Gangshi and to Mother.

Like the signing of a contract, and with the speed of a viper, Ryus's tail blade found itself being thrust into Gangshi's sternum, only to burst out of the other side, severing the spinal cord. Ryus's "sister" was instantaneously rendered a lifeless husk.

The recently-made corpse hung loosely from Ryus's weapon, all appendages going slack as the invader's tail dropped and thumped lightly upon hitting the carpet.

Ryus promptly raised a leg and kicked the corpse away like yesterday's garbage.

Gangshi's corpse dropped to the floor anti-climactically. Instead of a "spread-eagle" position, her body simply falls onto it's side. Her limbs continued to twitch, her form curling in on itself, somehow. Her jaws spread open with a sickly creaking sound, and stayed locked wide- her Piston Jaw slowly creeping out from the back of her throat. Her arms spasmed in a sporadic pattern, fingers staying locked in an "attack" position. Acidic blood quickly began seeping in a mild, yet fast current, spilling onto the carpet and overtaking the surrounding air with an acrid sizzling. But not just a "sizzle"- a "burn", a "crackle", and a "hiss", as wisps of barely-visible green vapor sprayed from the disintegrating carpet.

None of that was of any importance to Ryus.

The one detail that stuck with him... was the sound. The sound of 280 pounds of exoskeleton and muscle hitting the floor. A loud, reverberating "thump" that Ryus could feel vibrate into his feet and up his legs.

That one sound found itself replaying over and over in Ryus's head as he turned and walked away, back toward the apartment. It echoed into nothingness as he got closer to the apartment door.

It was official. He was now a fugitive. Mother would likely send her Soldiers to destroy him.

And he couldn't find any reason to feel particularly strongly about it, one way or the other.

Though, the current situation _did_ present a problem. Ryus's time-table had been shortened significantly- if he was still planning to leave Guardian with Samantha, then his deadline to do so was now extremely short. At most, he'd estimate that they would have two days - maximum - to get the Hell out of dodge. If Mother sent more Soldiers to kill him, he was not entirely convinced that he'd be capable of handling them. He'd managed to kill Gangshi because she was taken completely off-guard. Because she was relatively young, and was nowhere near fully grown.

A fully matured, Carved Soldier, at six months of age, stood at least eight feet tall and had enough strength to completely tear an adult, armored human male in half. Down the middle. Ryus had witnessed a seven-month old Soldier reduce a squad of Marines into what can only be called "bloody ribbons". If that.

So... Ryus was not certain he'd be able to handle more than one Carved Soldier at a time.

All the more reason to leave as soon as possible.

_Speaking of which..._ , Ryus thought, as he reached the apartment door and stopped to stand in front of it.

Samantha had heard everything. Not the conversation, but, she'd (more or less) heard what had happened. Except, if her racing thoughts were anything to go by, she had no idea what exactly was going on. She knew that something had suffered some sort of injury, but that was it. Other than that, the only thing she'd heard were growls and footsteps. And now... she was afraid. Again. And paranoid.

* * *

_66... 67... 68... 69... 70..._

A very thin sheen of sweat shined on Samantha's forehead as she continued doing pushups, staring intently at the green carpet beneath her. The bed to the right of her, and the door to the apartment to her left. She'd spent the past... twenty- twenty-five(?) minutes exercising in the space between the bed and the door.

It had been almost thirty five minutes since the Amber Demon had left her in the apartment. About ten minutes in, she realized how stupid it was for her to simply sit there and wait- especially when she had had ample opportunity to follow after the creature. She wasn't quite sure what had happened, but her recollection of exactly "why" she'd decided to stay in the room was foggy at best. She supposed that that was what her mother had always meant whenever she made remarks about Samantha's tendency to "space out". Though, Sam never really thought of that as a bad thing. If she was spacing out, it meant that she was thinking really hard. And if she's thinking enough to cause her to become absent-minded, whatever she happened to be thinking about must be important.

And, in this case, Samantha was confident in the opinion that it _was_ important, this time. To _her_, at least. She wouldn't dream of trying to say the same for anyone else. She _was_ the kid in middle school who paid more attention to documentaries about insects than she did to the latest celebrity news... whoever the Hell _that_ happened to be. And insects were her _least_ favorite subject.

Predictably, one can imagine how good of an opportunity it was to her, that she was able to observe and study a God-damned _Xenomorph_, up close and personal, with zero repercussions! It was a "friendly Xenomorph"- what more of an excuse did she need to start obsessing over the complicated science of xeno-biology?

_... 89... 90... 91..._

Of course, now that she'd been stuck in a room with nothing to do but workout for the better part of the last half-hour, she didn't particularly agree with her past-self's motivations, at the moment.

_... 99... 100..._

Samantha slumped and collapsed on the floor with a grunt of relief, before almost immediately turning over onto her back, bringing up her knees and placing her hands behind her head. She then started doing crunches.

_1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8..._

She wondered if doing this was actually going to be beneficial, at this point... she was pretty hungry from going without food for the past three days... and she was about as muscled as she was going to get without proper caloric intake. Though, she supposed that it was the best way to stave off boredom for the moment. And it would help her get used to how inflamed her left leg was.

_...17... 18... 19... 2-_

She froze mid-crunch, hearing rapid thumping sounds to her right. Outside of the apartment. She shot to her feet and backed away to the rear corner of the room.

What she heard next could be summed up with the words "grunting, growling, thumping, and screeching". First (what Samantha assumed to be the footsteps of a Xenomorph coming down the hallway on the right) abruptly stopped. Then a _different_ set of footsteps came from the left, and also... stopped, before being followed by a loud, alien screech. Two heavy objects seemed to hit the floor at the same time. One object seemed to then be in motion. More footsteps. For a while, she could hear nothing but feint growls and grunts, before a noise that sounded akin to a hole-punch could be picked up. Then more footsteps... which were coming towards the room that she was in.

The footfalls (seemed to) stop in front of the door to the apartment. For a solid seven seconds, nothing happened, before these same footsteps walked down the hallway to the left at a slow pace.

Needless to say, Samantha was utterly puzzled. And disturbed- don't forget disturbed. Ever.

She couldn't even _begin_ to ponder exactly what had just happened. It was just too damn bizarre to begin to comprehend.

What she knew was that there was at least one Xenomorph outside of the apartment in which she'd taken refuge, and there was no safe way to know whether the Amber Demon was there. Samantha was now extremely aware of the fact that this "hideout" wasn't even _remotely_ hidden. Not from Xenomorphs.

The actual problem was that she had nowhere to run or go, in case her life was in danger. There was no way that the Xenomorph outside the room _hadn't_ seen her.

So, here she was, unconsciously backed up against the wall (to the left of the bed) and gaping like an idiot- trying to figure out what to do. She really didn't like the idea of going through another panic attack.

Which wasn't helped by the sound of footsteps coming back down the outside hallway- louder and faster.

* * *

Ryus bent down and picked up the bag of apples and plastic aid-kit. His fingers awkward attempted to wrap around the too-small handle of the first-aid kit, before he gave up and simply brought it up to his mouth so he could hold it in his jaws.

His lips peeled back to reveal the shiny-bronze fangs which could crush the plastic package in their grip. Ryus's legs began to strain from standing upright, forcing him to oblige their discomfort and drop to all fours with a thud.

He raised the apple bag in one hand and used his tail to carry it once again.

He turned on the spot and began walking back towards the apartment.

Ryus... was grouchy. He tended to be whenever he killed a Hive-mate and became a fugitive to his entire species- understandably.

So, one can imagine his frustration at the fact that Samantha had now reverted back to the "paranoid, primal-survival, fight-or-flight" status that he'd found her in. That he'd spent the past three days trying to get her out of.

_And now, she's terrified, again. Fucking wonderful_.

He asked himself how much more time and effort it would take to bring Samantha back to an amicable state. To facilitate the ability to leave the planet with her. He asked himself, honestly, if he would be able to actually do so with his current capabilities.

And he didn't like the result.

Ryus had refrained from trying to speak to Samantha, because he was unwilling to risk any adverse effects. He'd gotten seizure as a direct result of trying to kill the female, then he'd been consumed by murderous intent (enough to kill a Hive-mate) as a result of one of his kind trying to kill her. The idea of something equally bad happening by attempted to telepathically communicate had stopped him.

_Well... fuck it, I guess. I can't bloody do that, can I?_ She's _gotten all scared, and there's no real way that _I_ can think of to have her find a way off of Guardian-625. And then take her with me. I suppose I'll just have to suck it up and try_, he thought.

Ryus began making his way toward the apartment, feet hitting the carpet a bit more forcefully than was necessary.

He stopped in front of the door and dropped the first-aid kit and apples on either side of the doorframe. He stood and reached for the handle.

_Now it's time to_ really _say "hello"..._, he thought.

* * *

**Cliffhangar! Wheee! Hurrah!**

**...**

**I'll get to work and make the next chapter.**


End file.
